FRANK 


MERRIWELLS 


SET-BACK 


BURT- L 
STAN  DISH 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

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Finally  Mi-rriwcll  found  the  <i]njning  liu  \viis  seeking  and  drove  the  puck 
'  etween  the  goal-posts. 

(Page  21f.) 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S 
SETBACK 

A  STORY  FOR  BOYS 


BY 


BURT  L.  STANDISH 

AUTHOR   OF 

"The  Merriwell  Stories" 


PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID   McKAY,   PUBLISHER 

604-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE 


Copyright,  1900  and  1901 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 


Frank  Men-Swell's  Setback 


All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into  foreign  languages, 
including  the  Scandinavian. 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  SETBACK. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   GIANT   OF   THE   WHEEL. 

In  its  various  forms  it  was  an  old  trick,  and  it  ought 
not  to  have  worked  on  Starbright,  who  had  come  from 
the  famous  preparatory  college  at  Andover.  But  by 
some  chance,  Dick  had  never  heard  of  it,  and  the  soph- 
omores, discovering  this,  prepared  to  "work"  him  with 
it. 

It  was  a  principle  with  the  lordly  sophomores  to  an- 
noy freshmen,  and  the  towering  young  giant,  who  had 
already  made  himself  so  famous  at  Yale,  suffered  as 
much  at  their  hands  as  less  noted  mortals. 

There  is  a  streak  in  human  nature  which  causes  those 
who  have  been  "through  the  mill"  to  want  to  put 
others  through.  This  spirit  accounts  for  "hazing,"  in 
all  its  forms. 

Jack  Ready  started  it  by  offering  to  bet  Dick  Star- 
bright  ten  dollars  that  he  could  not  ride  a  bicycle  from 
New  Haven  to  Guilford  and  back,  a  round-trip  of 
thirty-two  miles,  in  three  hours.  Starbright  snapped 
him  up  quicker  than  a  wink,  for  though  there  were 
many  things  he  could  do  better  than  bicycling,  Dick 
knew  that  he  could  do  this,  and  the  trip  to  Guilford, 


2035366 


6  The  Giant  of  the  Wheel. 

along  the  pleasant  shores  for  a  great  part  of  the  way, 
was  an  attractive  one. 

The  bet  was  made  one  Wednesday  evening,  and 
Dick  was  to  do  the  riding  the  next  Saturday  afternoon. 
Starbright  told  his  friend  Dashleigh  about  it. 

"Of  course  you  can  do  it !"  Bert  declared. 

"Dead  easy!  Why,  I  could  do  that  trip  in  two 
hours,  even  if  the  roads  are  sandy.  But  three!  I 
don't  know  what  Ready  is  thinking  about.  He  must 
fancy  that  I  can't  ride  a  wheel.  Perhaps  it  is  because 
I  started  in  to  take  part  in  the  relay  race  and  Merriwell 
pulled  me  out  of  it  and  put  me  at  other  work.  But 
that  was  only  because  you  are  a  faster  rider  than  I  am, 
and  my  size  and  strength  made  me  a  promising  candi- 
date for  the  shot-putting  and  hammer-throwing." 

"And  you  did  your  part  well,  old  man.  You  covered 
yourself  with  glory!" 

"And  I'll  show  these  duffers  that  I  can  ride  a  wheel. 
I'll  see  how  quickly  I  can  do  the  trip,  and  I'll  make 
their  eyes  bulge  out  when  they  see  me  back." 

Dick  did  not  get  an  opportunity  to  see  Merriwell, 
but  he  told  Browning;  and  Browning,  who  had  been 
"let  in  on  the  ground  floor,"  assured  Dick  that  he 
could  make  it  "dead  easy,"  and  that  Jack  Ready  was 
a  fool  for  offering  such  a  bet. 

"It  will  be  a  good  way  to  open  up  Merriwell's  en- 
tertainments," said  Ralph  Bingham,  when  Starbright 
chanced  to  speak  to  him  about  it.  "I'd  do  it,  if  I  were 
you." 


The  Giant  of  the  Wheel.  7 

Bingham  was  a  sophomore,  but  Dick  did  not  think 
of  that. 

Carker,  alone  of  the  sophomores,  objected,  urging 
that  he  disliked  to  see  so  good  a  fellow  as  Starbright 
toyed  with  in  that  way. 

"Well,  you  aren't  going  to  chip  into  the  thing  and 
spoil  the  fun,  just  because  it  doesn't  suit  you,  are 
you?"  demanded  Bingham.  "We  sophomores  must 
hang  together.  Ready  is  an  especial  friend  of  yours, 
and  he  is  managing  the  thing.  Don't  you  think  it 
would  be  rather  a  scaly  trick  to  give  the  snap  away?" 

"If  Merriwell  should  hear  of  it?" 

"He'll  not  hear  of  it.  He  has  his  hands  full  of 
other  matters  just  now.  And  he  wouldn't  interfere, 
anyway,  for  he's  no  milk-and-water  kid.  He  had  to 
go  through  the  mill  when  he  was  a  freshman,  just 
as  we  did,  and  it  did  him  good.  I  like  Starbright. 
He's  a  fine  fellow.  But  he's  a  freshman,  and  he's  in 
great  danger  of  coming  to  think  that  he  is  'it'!  He 
has  boomed  right  up,  and  he'll  be  wearing  frills  of 
great  importance  round  the  gray  matter  of  his  think- 
ing machine  the  very  first  thing  we  know.  Already 
he  believes  that  he's  better  than  any  sophomore  that 
ever  trod  the  campus  or  sat  on  the  fence.  This  thing 
won't  hurt  him.  It  will  do  him  good,  and  tend  to 
make  a  man  of  him." 

This  sort  of  logic,  directed  to  a  fellow  classman,  was 
irresistible. 

Ready  was  not  at  all  sure  that  Merriwell  would 
interfere;  but,  fearing  that  he  might,  for  Dick  was 


8  The  Giant  of  the  Wheel. 

recognized  as  his  protege,  he  contrived  to  keep  the  two 
apart  most  of  the  time,  managing  to  be  with  one  or 
the  other  whenever  they  met,  and  to  so  skilfully  direct 
the  conversation  that  no  opportunity  presented  for  a 
discussion  of  Dick's  proposed  ride.  As  for  the  other 
students  of  all  classes,  they  shut  up  mum  on  the  sub- 
ject whenever  Frank  came  into  their  midst. 

There  was  a  lowering  gray  sky  and  a  hint  of  a 
change  in  the  weather  on  that  Saturday  afternoon 
when  Dick  wheeled  up  in  front  of  the  New  Haven 
House  for  his  start.  He  rode  a  very  high  frame  to  ac- 
commodate his  great  height.  It  was  a  heavy  roadster, 
not  adapted  to  racing,  but  Dick  had  been  able  to  crack 
it  up  for  good  speed  on  more  than  one  occasion. 

As  for  his  attire,  Dick  was  comfortably  clothed  in  a 
woolen  bicycle-suit  somewhat  the  worse  for  wear,  and 
wore  a  visored  cap.  Like  most  Yale  men,  the  cut  and 
quality  of  his  clothing  were  of  secondary  considera- 
tion, his  only  demand  being  that  it  would  suit  his 
needs  and  be  comfortable. 

Jack  Ready  was  there,  to  lead  the  cheer  with  which 
Dick's  departure  was  greeted,  swinging  his  cap  and 
yelling,  after  a  preliminary  offer  to  double  his  bet, 
which  offer  Dick  would  not  accept.  He  was  sure  he 
would  win  Ready's  money,  and  for  that  reason  he  did 
not  want  the  bet  raised. 

Dashleigh  was  there,  too,  and  other  freshmen.  There 
were  some  juniors  and  seniors,  also.  But  the  larger 
number  gathered  in  front  of  the  hotel  were  sopho- 
mores. 


The  Giant  of  the  Wheel.  9 

Starbright  liked  a  bicycle,  though  he  was  too  large 
and  heavy  to  become  a  crack  rider.  He  was  a  good 
wheelman,  though,  and  he  swung  away  with  cheerful- 
ness through  the  level  streets  of  the  college  city  and 
out  toward  the  road  that  leads  close  along  the  shore  of 
the  Sound,  following  as  closely  as  he  could  the  railway 
line. 

He  found  the  wind  heavy  as  he  began  to  wheel  over 
the  Sound  route.  The  breeze  was  off  the  water  and 
he  was  forced  to  bore  into  it  quarteringly,  which,  with 
the  character  of  the  road,  made  the  wheeling  rather 
too  heavy  for  pure  pleasure. 

Nevertheless,  Starbright  "hit  it  up"  at  a  good  gait, 
bending  forward  over  the  handle-bars  and  thrusting 
his  visored  cap  into  the  wind  like  the  sharp  prow  of 
a  racing  yacht. 

Now  and  then  a  farmer  stared  curiously  at  him  as  he 
slipped  by.  This  grew  so  frequent  as  he  neared  the 
first  of  the  half-abandoned  summer  resorts  of  that 
part  of  the  Sound  that  he  dismounted  from  his  wheel, 
feeling  that  something  in  his  personal  appearance 
caused  these  men  of  the  hoe  to  inspect  him  in  that  way. 

Having  looked  his  wheel  over  and  found  it  all  right, 
Dick  took  off  his  coat  and  inspected  that.  There  was 
no  legend  pinned  or  chalked  on  its  back,  and  nothing 
about  him  which  could  draw  so  much  attention, 

"The  fellows  act  as  if  they  had  never  seen  a  bicycle !" 
he  grumbled,  as  he  replaced  his  coat  and  remounted 
for  the  continuance  of  his  journey.  Yet  that  this 
could  not  be  so  seemed  to  be  proved  by  the  proximity 


io  The  Giant  of  the  Wheel. 

of  the  summer-resort  hotels,  which  poured  out  scores 
of  wheelmen  for  these  roads  every  season,  to  make  no 
mention  of  the  bicyclists  of  New  Haven. 

On  reaching  the  first  of  the  summer  resorts,  Dick 
was  surprised  still  further  to  find  a  number  of  men  and 
women,  chiefly  composed  of  the  class  who  get  their 
living  in  the  winter  from  the  waters  of  the  Sound  or 
by  taking  care  of  the  abandoned  caravansaries,  stand- 
ing grouped  on  a  corner  as  if  awaiting  his  coming, 
and  staring  at  him  with  undisguised  curiosity  as  he 
wheeled  by. 

"Don't  think  much  o'  yer  wheel!"  one  of  them 
shouted.  Then  added :  "No ;  I  don't  think  I'll  buy  one 
of  'em  next  summer!" 

Stopping  by  a  spring  for  a  drink,  he  leaned  the  wheel 
against  a  fence,  and  a  country  youth  came  forward  to 
look  it  over.  Dick  would  have  thought  nothing  of 
this  if  the  young  fellow  had  not  asked  him  if  he 
thought  he  received  enough  pay  for  that  kind  of 
work. 

"Not  doing  it  for  pay,"  said  Dick. 

"Y'ain't  racin'  ag*in  time,  then?"  was  the  bland 
question. 

"Not  exactly." 

"Can't  say  that  I  want  to  buy  the  wheel!" 

"I  haven't  any  notion  of  selling  it." 

Then  the  countryman  stared  at  him. 

"You  ain't  Jimmy  Michael?" 

"Jimmy  Michael,  the  famous  bicyclist  ?  No.  What 
made  you  think  so?" 


The  Giant  of  the  Wheel.  1 1 

"And  ain't  you  advertisin'  a  new  kind  of  wheel  that's 
a  world  corker?" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind." 

The  country  lad  flushed  and  moved  away  with  ex- 
planation. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  fellow?"  Starbright 
thought.  "Jimmy  Michael?  Nobody  could  mistake 
me  for  Jimmy  Michael !" 

Still  the  farmers  stared  at  him  as  he  wheeled  by. 
Sometimes,  when  they  beheld  him  coming,  they  came 
close  down  to  the  road,  often  the  whole  family,  and 
stared  after  him  as  he  passed  on. 

Once  a  young  woman  waved  a  handkerchief  rogu- 
ishly at  him  from  a  kitchen  window.  Dick  began  to 
feel  red  and  uncomfortable;  and  then,  at  the  next  vil- 
lage, he  was  asked  by  a  member  of  the  mob  that  was 
apparently  gathered  to  see  him,  what  the  make  of  his 
wheel  was,  and  if  it  was  to  be  sold  cheaper  than  other 
makes  of  good  wheels,  he  inquired  why  the  question 
was  asked. 

For  answer  the  man  pointed  to  a  large  placard  on 
a  wall: 

"Richard  Starbright,  the  world-famous  giant  of  the 
wheel,  will  this  afternoon  make  a  race  against  time 
from  New  Haven  to  Guilford  and  return  for  the  pur- 
pose of  advertising  our  new  make  of  record-beater 
roadsters.  Starbright  has  beaten  the  record  of  Jimmy 
Michael,  and  our  wheels  beat  the  world.  He  has 
circled  the  globe  in  the  interest  of  our  wheels.  Wait 
for  him!  You  cannot  afford  to  miss  seeing  him!" 


12  The  Giant  of  the  Wheel. 

"You  look  a  good  deal  like  a  Yale  guy,  but  yer 
size  made  us  think  mebbe  you  was  the  man,"  the  citi- 
zen explained. 

"Yes,  I  am  the  man!"  said  Dick  hotly  flushing. 
"I'm  a  guy  all  right,  too!" 

"What's  the  make  o'  the  wheel?"  another  queried, 
walking  round  as  if  to  inspect  its  fine  points.  "Looks 
like  you've  rid  it  a  lot.  I  should  think  they'd  have  sent 
you  out  on  a  shinin'  new  one?" 

"What  countries  have  you  ridden  through?"  queried 
a  vinegary  woman  in  spectacles.  "I  do  hope  you've 
been  through  Tibet.  But  if  you  have,  the  natives 
did't  treat  ye  as  bad  as  they  do  some  folks.  I've  got 
some  real  good  buttermilk,  and  if  you'd  like  to  drop 
into  my  house  a  minute  to  rest  and  tell  me  about 
Tibet  I'd  take  it  kindly.  I'm  so  interested  readin' 
*bout  Tibet  that  I  can't  hardly  sleep  o'  night  some- 
times. It's  the  first  house  on  the  corner  as  you  go 
down — a  little  white  house  with  green  winder-blinds." 

Starbright  was  in  a  profuse  perspiration. 

"Thank  you !"  he  said.  "You're  very  kind.  But  I 
must  really  hurry  on.  I've  stopped  too  long  now." 

Then,  feeling  that  the  only  way  to  get  away  from 
these  people  was  to  mount  his  wheel,  he  hopped  on  it 
and  fled  through  the  village,  giving  a  glance  at  the  little 
white  house  with  the  green  blinds  as  he  swept  by,  and 
thinking  that  perhaps  the  proper  thing  would  have  been 
to  stop  there  and  talk  Tibet  to  the  inquisitive,  spec- 
tacled lady  and  sip  her  buttermilk  while  he  thought 
out  some  plan  for  outwitting  his  tormentors. 


The  Giant  of  the  Wheel.  13 

"This  is  Ready's  work!"  he  panted,  as  he  wheeled 
-down  the  road.  "I'll  have  to  murder  that  fellow!  I 
see  there  is  no  help  for  it!  I  shall  have  to  take  him 
between  my  two  thumbs  and  squash  his  life  out  as  I 
would  any  common  bug !" 

He  tried  to  smile  when  the  village  was  behind  him. 

"It's  a  good  joke,  anyway,  and  it's  on  your  Uncle 
Richard !  Of  course,  the  whole  college  knows  of  it 
now,  and  New  Haven  will  know  it  before  night. 
Heavens!  If  it  should  get  into  the  newspapers!" 

Dick  wheeled  on  so  fast,  hardly  knowing  now  that 
he  was  speeding,  that  he  found  himself  approaching  the 
next  little  village  almost  before  he  thought  it  possible. 
He  saw  the  inevitable  crowd  gathered  on  the  principal 
corner  of  the  street,  through  which  he  must  pass  unless 
he  elected  to  make  a  wide  detour  and  avoid  the  village 
altogether.  Some  boys  raised  a  cheer  as  he  drew  near, 
swinging  their  hats  with  an  urchin's  delight. 

"I'll  not  stop!"  Dick  grunted,  shrinking  from  the 
thought  of  again  encountering  some  one  who  would 
ask  him  about  his  world-wide  travels.  "They'll  want 
to  know  if  I've  been  in  China,  likely,  and  if  I've 
fought  the  Boxers,  and  how  many  I've  killed !" 

So  he  put  on  extra  speed,  lowered  his  visored  cap, 
bent  over  the  handle-bars,  and  went  through  the  street 
like  a  streak  of  lightning.  The  boys  yelled  and 
whooped,  and  he  could  not  help  hearing  one  citizen 
remark  that  "Jimmy  Michael  ain't  in  it  with  that 
feller!" 

"Here  comes  the  bikeist!"  a  boy  was  shouting  to 


14  The  Giant  of  the  Wheel. 

another  group  at  the  lower  corner.  "Come  quick, 
Sammy,  'er  ye'll  be  too  late !" 

"Geewhiskers !  ain't  he  a  snorter?"  another  boy 
yelled. 

The  group  broke  into  a  wild  cheer  as  Dick  swept 
past,  pedaling  as  if  he  were  racing  for  life.  When  he 
had  escaped  from  these  innocent  tormentors,  he  be- 
gan to  think  over  the  situation  and  to  ask  himself  if 
he  should  go  on  to  Guilford  or  stop  where  he  was  and 
retrace  his  way  to  New  Haven  by  another  route.  To 
do  that  would  be  to  lose  his  bet.  Not  that  he  cared  so 
much  for  the  money  or  for  the  mere  winning,  but  that 
would  give  Ready  and  the  sophmores  a  perhaps  cov- 
eted opportunity  to  guy  him  for  cowardice. 

No,  he  was  in  it,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  way  out 
but  to  make  the  ride  according  to  plans  and  schedule 
and  win  out,  so  far  as  that  part  was  concerned.  So 
he  rode  on,  wondering  if  there  were  no  means  by 
which  he  could  yet  defeat  the  sophomores. 

"Yes,  this  is  the  beginning  of  Frank  Merriwell's 
entertainments !"  he  rather  grimly  thought.  "I  didn't 
know  that  I  would  be  chosen  to  open  the  show  in  this 
way,  though !  Merry  doesn't  know  anything  about  it, 
I'm  sure." 

Merriwell  was  planning  some  festivities  of  an  ath- 
letic character  with  which  he  and  his  friends  and  other 
students  were  to  celebrate  the  many  victories  won  by 
Yale  that  season.  The  college  had  been  wonderfully 
fortunate  and  triumphant  on  the  gridiron,  not  hav- 
ing lost  a  single  game  during  the  entire  season.  Never 


The  Giant  of  the  Wheel.  15 

had  a  Yale  team  equaled  the  performance  of  the  foot- 
ball eleven  of  that  year  under  the  leadership  of  the 
redoubtable  senior.  And  not  only  in  football,  but  in 
many  other  ways  had  Yale  won  honor  with  the  victori- 
ous teams  Merriwell  had  trained  and  led. 

There  was  a  grim  humor  in  Starbright  which  made 
him  appreciate  the  situation  in  which  he  found  him- 
self, even  though  he  was  the  victim.  At  first  he  had 
paid  no  heed  to  anything  placarded  on  the  walls,  but 
now,  looking  out  for  those  glaring  signs,  he  soon  found 
one  stuck  against  the  side  of  a  barn.  It  was  on  the 
side  of  the  barn  that  was  invisible  to  him  as  he  came 
toward  it. 

So  this  had  been  Ready's  plan !  These  glittering  ad- 
vertisements of  the  performance  of  the  "Giant  of  the 
Wheel,"  produced,  no  doubt,  by  some  New  Haven 
printing  press,  had  been  skilfully  plastered  up  along 
the  roadside  and  in  the  villages  in  such  a  way  that  the 
wheelman  approaching  them  could  not  see  them.  And 
the  chances  were  small  that  he  would  look  back  and 
discover  them  after  he  had  whirled  by.  This  accounted 
for  the  fact  that  Dick  had  not  for  a  time  observed  the 
notices  which  drew  out  the  curious  villagers  and 
farmers. 

In  the  next  village,  which  was  also  of  the  summer- 
hotel  variety,  though  there  was  a  substantial  element 
of  people  who  resided  there  the  year  round,  a  larger 
crowd  than  ever  stood  in  the  street  to  await  his  coming. 

The  crowd  broke  into  a  cheer  as  he  came  in  sight 


1 6  The  Giant  of  the  Wheel. 

and  wheeled  up  to  the  corner.  He  had  resolved  to  ask 
some  questions. 

"When  were  these  placards  stuck  up?"  he  inquired. 

"Yisterday.  Say,  mister,  when's  yer  book  comin' 
out?" 

"What  book?" 

"Why,  the  feller  that  come  along  yisterday  stickin' 
up  the  bills  said  that  you  was  about  to  put  out  a  book 
tellin'  about  yer  wonderful  adventures  with  the  Toltecs 
while  you  was  coastin'  down  one  of  them  old  Peruvian 
roads  in  South  Ameriky." 

"What  sort  of  looking  fellow  was  he?" 

"Well,  about  so  high  and  so  wide.  He  was  a  sort 
of  stocky  chap  with  bright  eyes  and  red  cheeks.  Come 
to  think  of  it,  when  he  got  off  his  wheel  to  stick  up  the 
sign,  I  noticed  that  he  toed  in  with  one  foot." 

"That  was  Jack  Ready." 

"Was  it?  I  didn't  know!  I  believe  he  did  say 
somethin'  'bout  bein'  always  Ready." 

"Aw!  that  feller's  a  Yale  man!"  a  boy  was  heard  to 
sneer.  "He  ain't  never  been  in  South  Ameriky  ner 
nothin'.  I  know  them  fellers  soon's  I  see  'em." 

"Be  you  a  Yale  man?"  an  old  man  growled,  not  rel- 
ishing the  idea  of  being  drawn  out  and  fooled  in  that 
way  by  a  mere  college  student.  He  had  walked  nearly 
a  mile  to  see  the  "Giant  of  the  Wheel"  go  by,  and  he 
wanted  his  money's  worth. 

Dick  was  saved  from  answering  this  disconcerting1 
question  by  a  young  man  with  a  pale  face  and  large 
nose,  who  crowded  forward  to  inspect  the  wheel,  say- 


The  Giant  ot  the  Wheel.  17 

ing  that  he  intended  to  purchase  a  bicycle  the  coming 
season. 

"I  thought,  mebbe,  when  I  heard  that  feller  talkin' 
yesterday,  that  it  was  one  of  them  headless  wheels 
made  in  Indianapolis.  D'y'ever  see  one  of  'em  ?  You 
sort  of  set  in  the  handle-bars  as  if  they  was  the  arms  of 
a  rockin'chair.  I  didn't  know  but  I'd  like  to  have  one 
of  'em.  I'm  sure  the  feller  said  somethin'  'bout  head- 
less!" 

Dick  thought  it  quite  likely  that  the  irrepressible 
Ready  had  referred  to  the  rider  of  the  wheel  as  "head- 
less," or  something  of  like  character,  indicating  that 
he  was  "easy." 

"Well,  perhaps  I  am  easy/'  he  thought,  as  he 
wheeled  on,  glad  to  be  past  another  inquisitive  village. 

Bran  ford  Point,  a  favorite  watering-place,  turned 
out  a  good-sized  crowd  to  see  the  "Giant  of  the 
Wheel,"  but  Dick  concluded  that  he  did  not  care  to 
ask  further  questions  or  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
curious  people,  so  he  flew  through  the  place  as  rapidly 
as  he  could  pedal. 

He  was  making  good  time,  even  though  the  road  was 
not  of  the  best,  in  spots,  and  the  wind  blew  cold  from 
the  leaden  clouds  in  the  northeast.  He  was  warm 
enough,  in  spite  of  the  wind,  and  sometimes,  when  he 
reflected  too  strongly  on  the  condition  in  which  he 
found  himself,  and  of  the  laughing  sophomores  in 
the  campus,  he  grew  altogether  too  warm. 

There  were  other  groups  to  meet  and  pass,  other 
farmers  who  hurried  down  to  the  road  to  look  and 


i8  The  Giant  of  the  Wheel. 

wonder,  other  boys  who  whooped  and  yelled  and  told 
each  other  to  "git  onto  de  legs  of  de  Giant,"  and  other 
things  equally  uncomplimentary  to  the  bicyclist 

But  Dick,  having  resolved  to  take  the  whole  thing 
good-naturedly  'and  philosophically,  smiled  back  at 
them ;  and,  whenever  he  dismounted,  he  answered  the 
rain  of  questions  as  best  he  could,  without  revealing 
that  he  was  the  victim  of  a  sophomore  joke. 

But  when  he  reached  Guilford,  the  end  of  his  route 
— Guilford,  celebrated  as  the  birthplace  of  the  poet, 
Fitz  Greene  Halleck — he  met  a  surprise  that  took  away 
his  breath.  In  front  of  a  conspicuous  hotel  was  a 
brass  band,  surrounded  by  Yale  sophomores,  with  Jack 
Ready  prominent  in  their  midst.  They  were  waiting 
to  give  the  "Giant  of  the  Wheel"  a  right  royal  recep- 
tion ;  and,  as  Dick  wheeled  up,  almost  too  disconcerted 
to  know  what  to  do  or  say,  the  band  struck  into  "See 
the  Conquering  Hero  Comes!"  and  the  sophomores 
gave  a  yell  that  shook  the  building  and  almost  rattled 
the  curbstones. 

But  Dick  Starbright  was  quick-witted,  and  he  pulled 
himself  together,  so  that  he  was  able  to  dismount  with 
a  smile  and  a  bow. 

"What  sort  of  fool  circus  are  you  idiots  trying  to 
make  of  yourselves?"  he  blandly  demanded,  walking 
forward,  pushing  his  wheel. 

Ready  wiggled  his  fingers  characteristically. 

"An  immense  one,  old  man,  and  you  have  been  the 
clown  of  the  show.  We'll  take  supper  at  your  ex- 


The  Giant  of  the  Wheel.  19 

pense  to-night.  In  the  meantime,  you  will  find  re- 
freshments in  the  house  of  this  publican." 

He  gave  his  fingers  another  wiggle  and  jerked  them 
toward  the  hotel  proprietor,  who  stood  by  with  red 
face  expanded  in  a  grin. 

"It's  one  on  me!"  Starbright  admitted  smilingly. 
"But  the  end  hasn't  come.  Before  Frank  Merriwell's 
entertainments  are  over  you  Smart  Aleck  sophomores 
will  acknowledge  that  the  freshmen  know  a  thing  or 
two,  and  are  more  than  your  masters.  And  we'll  not 
resort  to  deceit  to  win  our  victories  or  to  give  us  a 
chance  to  'holler'." 


CHAPTER  II. 

TO  THE  AID   OF   DADE   MORGAN. 

Jack  Ready  and  the  sophomores  had  rushed  to 
Guilford  by  train  with  their  band,  after  Starbright's 
departure  from  New  Haven,  and  had  easily  beaten  him 
there,  with  plenty  of  time  to  spare.  They  returned  by 
train,  feeling  supremely  joyous  over  their  success. 

Dick,  however,  in  accordance  with  the  terms  of  the 
wager,  was  forced  to  wheel  back  to  New  Haven  over 
the  route  he  had  come,  again  stared  at  and  questioned 
by  the  curious  people  along  the  road. 

The  leaden  clouds  thickened  and  darkened,  portend- 
ing a  northeaster ;  but,  with  the  wind  for  a  large  part 
of  the  trip  at  his  back,  Dick  sped  swiftly  along,  ap- 
proaching New  Haven  well  ahead  of  time. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  city  he  came  upon  a  sight 
that  stirred  his  blood.  Dade  Morgan,  who  had  been 
out  on  a  wheel  accompanying  Rosalind  Thornton, 
found  himself  confronted  by  a  rough-looking  man 
whose  brutal  face  was  somewhat  familiar  to  him,  and 
who  planted  himself  in  the  center  of  the  street  as  if  to 
intercept  him. 

Dade  was  not  particularly  afraid  of  the  man,  but 
rather  scorned  him. 

"Out  of  the  way!"  Dade  roughly  commanded. 

He  rang  his  bell  furiously.     Rosalind  paled. 


To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan.          21 

Seeing  that  the  man  did  not  mean  to  step  aside, 
and  having  no  desire  for  an  altercation  with  him  in 
Rosalind's  presence,  Dade  veered  his  wheel  to  pass. 
The  man  leaped  at  him,  thrust  a  foot  out  in  front  of  the 
wheel,  stopping  it,  and  Dade  was  thrown  heavily  over 
the  handle-bars. 

Rosalind,  who  was  close  at  his  side,  was  also  thrown 
to  the  ground,  though  she  saved  herself  from  injury 
and  skilfully  alighted  on  her  feet. 

When  Starbright  saw  this  he  set  his  pedals  in  still 
swifter  motion,  all  his  chivalrous  instincts  aroused. 

Dade  scrambled  up ;  but  the  man  struck  him  a  heavy 
blow  which  knocked  him  backward. 

"Dis  is  me  time  I  git  even  wid  you  fer  dat  insult 
See!"  the  ruffian  growled.  "Ye  insulted  me  t'other 
night,  when  ye  hadn't  no  call.  Now  I  pays  ye  back!" 

Rosalind  gave  a  scream  of  fright.  Starbright, 
swinging  forward  like  a  whirlwind,  saw  Dade  dodge 
the  next  blow  and  grapple  with  the  ruffian  and  saw 
them  begin  a  furious  fight. 

Dade,  who  was  a  good,  hard  fighter,  had  been  weak- 
ened by  his  fall,  so  that  it  was  evident  at  a  glance  that 
he  was  no  match  for  his  burly  adversary.  He  struck 
savagely,  however,  and  managed  to  release  himself 
from  the  man's  grip. 

The  tough  now  struck  at  him,  using  a  big  doorkey 
as  brass  knuckles,  with  the  amiable  intention  of  cut- 
ting open  the  face  of  the  "college  dude."  Morgan 
evaded  this  and  landed  a  blow,  but  the  fellow  tripped 
him  and  kicked  him  heavily  as  he  fell 


22         To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan. 

Rosalind,  screaming  for  help,  ran  to  one  side  of  the 
road.  Dade  jumped  to  his  feet  again,  and,  managing 
to  fasten  on  the  tough,  the  two  went  down  together. 

Then  the  whirring  wheel  stopped  beside  the  strug- 
gling couple ;  and,  as  the  rough  pulled  loose  and  tried 
to  strike  Dade  in  the  face  with  the  heavy  brass  key, 
a  blow  from  Starbright's  big  fist  sent  him  reeling. 

"Anodder  college  dude !"  growled  the  ruffian,  wheel- 
ing about.  "Ye'll  wish  't  ye'd  kep'  out  o'  this !" 

His  hand  went  to  his  hip-pocket,  but  he  found  no 
weapon.  Then  he  gathered  himself  and  made  a  spring 
at  the  newcomer.  As  a  result,  he  ran  his  face  into  the 
big  fist  on  the  end  of  a  long,  straight,  stiffened  left 
arm.  At  the  other  end  of  the  arm  were  something 
like  two  hundred  pounds  of  hard-trained  muscle  and 
over  six  feet  of  young  manhood. 

A  feeling  of  jarring  surprise  penetrated  to  the  evil 
brain.  It  was  not  often  that  he  ran  against  anything 
quite  like  that.  He  paused  a  moment  to  stare  his  sur- 
prise ;  and  Dick  saw  that  he  was  a  big,  brawny  fellow, 
with  heavy  jaw,  small  head  and  piggish,  wicked  eyes, 
the  type  so  often  found  in  the  lowest  slums  of  great 
cities,  but  seldom  seen  in  New  Haven. 

The  effect  of  that  blow  rendered  the  man  cautious. 

"Dis  ain't  your  cut  in,  young  feller!"  he  snarled. 

Then,  thinking  to  take  Dick  by  surprise,  he  struck 
out  suddenly,  with  the  force  of  a  piledriver.  But  his 
maul-like  fist  did  not  connect  with  Dick's  face,  and  the 
force  of  the  blow  almost  threw  him  to  the  ground. 

Crack !  Dick's  hard  right  fist  sounded  like  the  smack 


To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan.         23 

of  a  board  striking  a  house.  The  fellow  reeled,  but 
recovered.  His  head  was  like  iron. 

"Wen  I  gits  me  fingers  onto  ye,  ye'll  wilt!    See!" 

He  dodged  Dick's  next  blow  and  rushed  in  with 
the  ferocity  of  a  bulldog.  Dick  stepped  lightly  aside; 
and  the  hard,  white  fist  pounding  the  ruffian  on  the  jaw 
threw  him  senseless  to  the  ground. 

Dade  Morgan,  having  regained  his  strength  some- 
what, was  on  the  point  of  coming  to  Dick's  assistance, 
but  drew  back  when  he  saw  the  man  senseless  on  the 
ground. 

"That  was  handsome  of  you,  Starbright!"  he  ac- 
knowledged. "I'll  try  not  to  forget  it." 

Rosalind  tried  to  stammer  her  thanks,  but  the  pres- 
ence of  the  ruffian,  even  though  he  was  insensible  for 
the  moment,  made  her  wildly  anxious  to  escape  from 
the  vicinity.  Some  people  were  approaching,  those  in 
the  lead  seeming  to  be  of  the  same  type  as  the  fellow 
knocked  out. 

Before  their  arrival  the  man  was  stirring  into  con- 
sciousness, making  Rosalind  more  than  ever  wildly 
anxious  to  proceed.  So  she  and  Dade  remounted  and 
wheeled  away. 

"Perhaps  the  fellow  is  your  friend,"  said  Starbright, 
speaking  to  the  man  who  arrived  first.  "If  he  is,  look 
after  him.  He  interfered  with  that  young  lady  and 
her  escort,  and  got  what  he  deserved !" 

Then  he,  too,  rode  on  into  the  city. 

Having  reported  his  return,  Dick  put  away  his 
wheel,  and,  feeling  tremendously  hungry,  went  to  a 


24          To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan. 

restaurant  and  had  something  to  eat.  It  was  not  until 
long  after  nightfall  that  he  went  to  his  rooms.  The 
sophomores  had  returned  to  New  Haven  by  rail  long 
before. 

"Gone  out  nagging  signs!"  was  the  scrawl  left  for 
him  on  the  table  by  Dashleigh. 

Dashleigh  had  not  heard  of  what  had  befallen  his 
chum  on  the  trip  to  Guilford,  for  the  joke  had  been 
kept  from  the  freshmen.  The  sophomores  had  feared 
Starbright  would  learn  of  it  through  his  freshmen 
friends ;  and,  besides  the  sophomores  had  other  plans  in 
store  for  making  it  interesting  for  the  men  of  the 
lower  class. 

After  changing  his  clothing,  Dick  went  out  to  give 
instructions  for  the  "dinner"  he  meant  to  give  to 
Ready  and  other  sophomores  that  night.  When  he 
returned  he  encountered  Dashleigh  as  the  latter  was 
about  to  ascend  to  their  apartments. 

"What  have  you  got  tucked  under  your  coat?"  Dick 
asked. 

"  'Sh!"  Bert  warned.    "It's  a  sign." 

"Nagging,"  or  stealing,  signboards  is,  for  some  in- 
explicable reason,  one  of  the  standard  forms  of  amuse- 
ment for  freshmen.  No  one  can  tell  just  where  the 
fun  comes  in,  unless  it  is  found  in  imagining  the 
stormy  anger  of  the  storekeepers  and  others  when 
they  find  their  signs  gone, 

"Had  a  great  time!"  Dashleigh  panted,  as  he  and 
his  chum  hurried  up-stairs.  "Never  had  more  fun 


To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan.          25 

in  my  life.  Ready  was  with  us.  Say,  that  fellow  is 
a  corker!" 

"What  time  did  he  get  back?" 

"Back  where?" 

"New  Haven." 

"I  didn't  know  he  was  out  of  town.  Anyway,  he 
didn't  say  anything  about  it.  We  nagged  a  lot  of 
signs  this  evening.  Ready  went  along  to  put  us  onto 
%  the  thing  right,  you  see.  I  hardly  thought  he'd  favor 
freshmen  that  way,  but  he  was  just  as  jolly  about  it; 
said  he'd  been  a  freshman  not  long  ago  himself,  and 
that  he  hadn't  forgot  it." 

"What  kind  of  a  sign  did  you  get?"  Dick  asked 
dryly. 

He  had  cause  to  fear  the  "friendliness"  of  Jack 
Ready  for  unsuspecting  freshmen. 

"The  dandiest  in  the  lot.  It's  a  new  blacksmith's 
sign,  or  a  blacksmith's  new  sign,  and  it  has  a  picture 
of  a  horse  on  it  that  is  a  real  work  of  art." 

They  had  arrived  at  their  rooms,  and  Dashleigh 
carefully  unbuttoned  his  overcoat  and  took  from  under 
it  the  sign.  He  stared  at  himself  and  the  sign  in 
comical  amazement. 

The  sign  had  been  freshly  painted,  and  his  clothing 
v/as  coated  with  the  paint.  In  addition,  he  had 
slapped  the  picture  of  the  horse  up  against  his  dark 
new  coat  as  he  tucked  the  outer  coat  over  it,  and  the 
impression  of  the  horse  had  been  transferred  to  the 
coat.  Starbright  could  not  help  laughing. 


26          To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan. 

"Seems  to  me  it  is  literally  a  horse  on  you!  That 
is  more  of  Ready's  work." 

"Why " 

Dashleigh  looked  from  the  paint  to  the  red  face  of 
his  friend. 

"Jack  Ready?"  he  gasped.  "Say,  did  Jack  put  up 
a  job  on  me?" 

"He  certainly  did,  and  he  put  up  another  on  me 
this  afternoon." 

Dashleigh  daintily  put  down  the  sign,  stripped  off 
his  overcoat,  and  sat  flat  down  in  a  chair. 

"Well,  say,  when  I  meet  that  fellow  I'll  kill  him! 
Don't  you  suppose  there  was  a  mistake  ?" 

"Biggest  kind  of  one!" 

"What?" 

"When  we  let  ourselves  forget  that  Jack  Ready  is  a 
sophomore  and  we  are  only  freshmen." 

Dashleigh  looked  ruefully  at  his  clothing  and  at  the 
fresh  red  paint  of  the  sign.  Then  the  humor  of  the 
situation  came  to  him,  and  he  smiled,  though  the  smile 
was  somewhat  ghastly. 

"I'm  an  idiot!" 

"Of  course  you  are.    We're  a  pair  of  idiots!" 

"What  did  he  do  to  you?" 

"Tell  me  about  the  sign  first." 

"Well,  you  see,  I've  been  wanting  to  go  out  nagging 
for  several  nights.  Jack  heard  of  it,  and  he  told  me 
that  he  could  give  me  some  pointers.  So  I  spoke  to 
some  other  fellows." 


To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan.          27 

"All  freshmen?" 

"Yep." 

"So  I  thought." 

"And  Ready  piloted  us  to-night.  He  showed  me 
this  beautiful  sign  in  front  of  the  blacksmith's,  and 
told  me  that  it  had  been  up  there  only  a  short  time, 
and  it  would  be  a  lovely  one  to  nag." 

"It  had  been  up  there  only  a  short  time !" 

"Confound  him!  I  see  it  had.  I  thought  it  felt 
damp  as  I  pulled  it  off  the  hooks,  but  we  had  a  few 
drops  of  rain  this  evening,  and  I  supposed  that  was 
the  reason.  Then  I  clapped  the  thing  under  my  coat 
and  fled  hitherward.  And  there  the  thing  is.  And 
my  beautifulest  suit  is  ruined.  Well,  when  I  meet 
him  I'll  kill  him!" 

"It  will  give  a  good  job  to  some  coat-cleaner.  Bet- 
ter tackle  the  thing  yourself,  while  the  paint  is  fresh. 
There  is  some  benzine  over  on  the  shelf." 

Then,  while  Bert  Dashleigh  tried  to  remove  the 
paint  from  his  clothing,  Starbright  told  of  his  race  to 
Guilford  and  of  the  advertisements  and  greeting  given 
to  the  "Giant  of  the  Wheel." 

"Say,  we'll  have  to  murder  that  villain !"  Dashleigh 
whispered.  "I  feel  to-night  fit  for  treason,  stratagem, 
and  spoil." 

Nevertheless,  after  laboring  with  the  suit  and  ben- 
zine for  an  hour,  he  hung  the  sign  against  the  wall, 
went  out  again,  and,  meeting  Ready,  greeted  him  with 
great  cheerfulness. 

"Thanks  for  the  sign !"  he  murmured.     "I've  hung 


28          To  the  Aid  of  Dade  Morgan. 

it  on  our  wall,  and  intend  to  have  it  framed  as  a  me- 
mento of  our  adventure." 

Ready  grinned. 

"That  blacksmith  will  be  tearing  mad  in  the  morn- 
ing. His  sign  hadn't  been  hanging  there  long." 

"Confound  you!  Don't  I  know  it  hadn't?  That 
blacksmith  never  saw  that  sign  in  his  life,  and  he 
never  will!" 

"It  had  a  beautiful  steed  on  it !"  Ready  purred. 

"A  sort  of  transfer  picture!  I  transferred  it  to  my 
coat!" 

Then  they  adjourned  to  Traeger's  and  buried  the 
hatchet,  after  which  Ready  betook  himself  to  the 
dinner  which  Starbright  was  giving  to  the  sopho- 
mores. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SPORT   WITH    THE   LASSOS. 

The  first  of  the  "entertainments"  was  given  that 
night  in  the  gymnasium.  It  was  a  roping-contest  be- 
tween Bill  Higgins,  of  Badger's  ranch,  and  Tom  Blud- 
soe,  a  cowboy  from  the  neighborhood  of  El  Paso, 
who  had  been  traveling  with  a  "Wild  West"  exhibi- 
tion and  had  somehow  become  stranded  in  New 
Haven.  Drink  may  have  had  something  to  do  with 
Bludsoe's  loss  of  position  and  his  consequent  poverty; 
but  he  was  a  fine  roper,  nevertheless,  and  in  arranging 
to  put  Higgins  against  him  for  the  amusement  of  the 
students,  Merriwell  was  not  at  all  sure  that  his  friend 
from  Kansas  would  be  able  to  win  out  and  cover  him- 
self with  glory. 

Perhaps  because  Merriwell  had  seemed  in  some  of 
the  class  contests  to  side  with  the  freshmen,  Tom 
Bludsoe  was  enthusiastically  backed  by  the  sopho- 
mores, while  the  freshmen  took  Higgins  for  their 
champion. 

"It  chills  the  corpuscles  of  my  sporting-blood  to 
have  to  turn  your  picture  to  the  wall  to-night,  Hig- 
gins," said  Ready,  ambling  into  the  gymnasium,  after 
his  "feed"  at  the  expense  of  Dick  Starbright;  "but 
the  sophomores  have  taken  up  Bludsoe,  and  I'm  a 
soph," 


30  Sport  With  the  Lassos. 

"Oh,  that  there  is  all  right !"  Higgins  grinned,  as  he 
strung  his  riata  across  the  gymnasium  floor,  to  make 
sure  it  was  in  good  condition.  "This  hyer  ain't  fer 
blood,  ye  know!  Jist  a  little  fun,  to  please  Merry 
and  t'other  fellers!  I  hear  tell  there's  another  feller 
that's  got  a  picture  he'd  like  to  turn  to  the  wall." 

"Dashleigh?" 

"Picture  of  a  hoss !"  grunted  Higgins,  critically  ex- 
amining his  rope  and  working  at  it  with  his  fingers 
to  take  out  an  incipient  kink  which  he  fancied  he  had 
found.  "I'm  going  to  hold  that  agin'  you !" 

"He  held  it  against  himself !" 

"Yes,  so  I  heerd.  But  I'm  a  lover  of  hosses,  and 
I  don't  like  to  have  even  a  picture  of  one  fooled 
with.  That  makes  me  willin'  to  champion  these  pore 
freshmen  fellers  to-night,  and  I'll  string  ropes  fer  'em 
fer  all  I'm  wu'th." 

Indeed,  Higgins  was  going  into  the  contest  with 
"blood  in  his  eye."  He  believed  that  he  was  a  better 
roper  than  the  man  from  El  Paso,  even  if  Bludsoe  had 
been  engaged  in  giving  public  exhibitions  of  his  rop- 
ing proficiency,  and  he  was  glad  of  this  chance.  Hig- 
gins delighted  in  keeping  himself  in  the  public  eye. 
Though  he  was  a  noble  fellow  in  many  respects,  he 
was  as  vain  as  a  peacock,  and  he  "felt  his  oats  con- 
siderably" that  night,  as  he  stretched  his  riata  across 
the  floor  and  walked  round  in  his  new  cowboy  cloth- 
ing, with  his  great  spurs  musically  clinking  and  jin- 
gling on  his  heels. 


Sport  With  the  Lassos.  31 

Bludsoe  was  a  lithe,  wiry  man,  younger  than  Hig- 
gins  and  smaller.  He  wore  a  smooth  face,  which  was 
as  bronzed  as  a  copper  mask.  It  was  a  sharp,  hatchety 
face,  keen  and  shrewd — the  typical  face  of  the  cow- 
boy of  the  plains,  whose  intense  activity,  combined 
with  the  dry,  sap-extracting  climate,  tends  to  keep 
down  all  superfluity  of  flesh. 

The  opening  feature  of  the  contest  was  an  attempt 
to  pull  down  a  tin  cup  hung  by  its  handle  on  a  nail 
against  a  post.  A  large  roping-space  had  been  cleared 
in  the  gymnasium  by  removing  some  muscle-strength- 
ening machines  and  horizontal  bars. 

The  room  was  filled  to  overflowing,  the  pushing, 
laughing  crowd  seemingly  the  more  jolly  because  the 
night  without  was  windy  and  inclement. 

"Makes  me  think  of  the  plains,"  chirped  Higgins, 
as,  in  a  lull  of  the  noise,  he  heard  the  singing  of  the 
wind  round  the  building.  "A  feller  that's  lived  with 
the  wind  as  I  have  sort  o'  likes  to  hear  its  mournful 
whistle.  I've  heerd  it  sing  that  way,  wrapped  in  my 
blanket,  with  the  stars  shinin*  brighter'n  diamonds; 
and  oncet  I  remember  it  had  thet  wail  when  me  and 
some  other  fellers  was  lying  in  a  sod  house,  with  the 
Pawnees  creepin'  onto  us  through  the  grass." 

It  was  amusing  to  notice  how  the  Chickering  set 
and  all  the  enemies  of  Merriwel  invariably  became 
champions  of  whoever  they  thought  was  opposed  to 
him  and  his  friends. 

When  Bludsoe  pulled  the  tin  cup  from  the  post  in 
two  throws  and  Higgins  took  three  throws  for  the 


32  Sport  With  the  Lassos. 

same  feat,  the  dickering-  crowd  clapped  their  hands 
and  stamped  the  floor  in  their  glee. 

"Say,  I  will  have  to  go  over  to  the  freshmen  side  if 
this  keeps  up !"  Ready  moaned  in  Merriwell's  ear.  "It 
plants  an  ache  in  my  heart  and  a  desire  in  my  foot  to 
kick  somebody.  Yet  I  seem  doomed  by  fate  to  howl 
with  the  Chickering  set.  Don't  jot  it  down  against  me 
in  your  book  of  remembrance !" 

The  next  attempt  of  the  ropers  was  to  catch  and 
hold  the  corner  of  a  swinging  trapeze-bar,  and  as 
Higgins  turned  to  get  his  rope,  which  he  had  dropped 
on  a  seat  while  talking  with  some  friends,  he  roared 
with  rage. 

His  new  rope,  in  which  he  took  such  pride,  had 
been  split  and  ripped  and  cut  in  a  dozen  places  by  a 
keen  knife.  Higgins  reddened  under  his  tan  as  he 
surveyed  the  work  of  the  unknown  hand. 

"If  I  kin  lay  my  paws  on  the  skunk  't  done  that, 
I'll  try  to  see  if  they's  enough  of  the  rope  left  to  hang 
him  with!"  he  exploded. 

He  turned  slowly  round,  with  blazing  eyes,  and 
looked  over  the  sea  of  excited  faces. 

"Gents,  is  this  hyer  Yale?  A  man  mean  enough  to 
be  a  hoss-thief  wouldn't  do  that  on  the  ranges!  All 
I  asks  is  fer  the  scalawag  that  done  it  to  step  up  to 
the  counter  and  let  me  look  at  him  oncet." 

There  was  no  forward  movement,  and  every  one 
seemed  to  glance  at  his  neighbor.  Bludsoe  sneered. 

"I  don't  reckon  that  any  of  yer  friends  did  that  to 
keep  ye  from  bein'  beat  ?" 


Sport  With  the  Lassos.  33 

Higgins  turned  on  him  with  those  blazing  eyes.  He 
saw  that,  in  spite  of  the  sneer,  Bludsoe  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  the  author  of  the  outrage,  and  his  hot  heart 
relented.  He  remembered  that  Bludsoe  was  a  brother 
roper  of  the  plains,  and  that  plainsmen  in  a  strange 
land  ought  to  be  friends  and  not  enemies. 

"I  won't  hold  that  again'  ye,  pardner.  If  you  beat 
me,  I'll  know  that  you  wouldn't  do  it  by  a  trick  like 
that.  Some  skunk  that  never  set  eyes  on  the  peraries 
done  that !" 

Merriwell  knew  that  another  riata  could  not  be  had 
in  New  Haven,  and  he  was  about  to  suggest  that  some- 
thing be  substituted  for  the  roping-performance,  but 
Higgins  asked  if  a  common  rope  could  be  had. 

"But  a  common  rope  won't  give  you  much  show!" 
Frank  insisted.  "I'd  like  to  have  you  win  in  this  thing 
if  you  go  on  with  it." 

"I'm  goin'  to  win,  b'jing!"  Higgins  vowed.  "I'll 
win  now  if  it  kills  me!  Send  fer  a  rope!" 

Then  he  gave  more  explicit  directions;  and  while 
some  one  hurried  away  for  the  rope,  Starbright  came 
upon  the  scene,  and  was  asked  to  amuse  the  crowd  by 
trying  to  beat  the  gymnasium  freshman  record  for 
hammer-throwing  and  putting  the  shot,  which  he  did. 

When  the  hemp  rope  ordered  by  Higgins  came  he 
amused  the  students  by  showing  them  how  to  make 
a  riata  from  an  ordinary  hemp  rope.  To  make  the 
"loop"  he  spliced  an  end  back  on  the  rope,  wrapping  it 
with  shoemaker's  wax,  also  securing  the  ends  from 


34  Sport  With  the  Lassos. 

fraying  by  wrapping  them  tightly  with  this  wax.  Not 
a  knot  was  used. 

"The  thing  ought  to  be  soaked  in  water  fer  two  or 
three  hours,"  he  explained,  "and  then  stretched  with 
weights,  but  it'll  haf  to  do  as  it  is." 

"If  you  can  win  out  with  that  rope,  you  will  show 
yourself  to  be  a  much  better  roper  than  if  you  had  used 
your  own  lasso,"  Merry  whispered  encouragingly. 

Then  the  rope-kings  went  at  it  again,  catching  the 
trapeze-bar  as  it  swung  from  side  to  side,  roping  stu- 
dents who  volunteered  to  run  before  them  for  the  pur- 
pose, pulling  caps  and  gloves  from  pegs  and  doing 
other  roping-feats. 

Though  the  rope  so  hastily  prepared  was  clumsy 
and  inclined  to  kink  in  an  aggravating  way  because  it 
had  not  been  stretched,  Higgins  succeeded  in  doing 
some  remarkably  good  work  with  it,  duplicating  every 
feat  of  Bludsoe. 

The  applause  was  pretty  equally  divided  between  the 
ropers,  for  the  freshmen,  feeling  that  their  champion 
had  been  foully  dealt  with  by  some  sophomore  jeal- 
ous of  his  ability,  cheered  every  throw  of  Higgins  with 
wild  delight. 

"Try  the  trapeze  again,"  said  Merriwell.  "Then 
we'll  try  the  cane,  and  those  two  things  ought  to  settle 
it.  Higgins  is  handicapped,  but  we're  banking  that  he 
will  beat  Bludsoe  anyway." 

The  first  throw  at  the  trapeze  fell  to  Bludsoe.  He 
stepped  forward,  holding  the  free  end  of  the  lasso  in 
his  left  hand  and  the  big  swinging  noose  trailing  in  his 


Sport  With  the  Lassos.  35 

right.  He  took  a  keen  look  at  the  swinging  trapeze, 
then  threw  and  caught  the  end  of  the  bar. 

The  Chickering  set  went  wild  with  joy. 

"That's  all  right!"  grinned  Higgins,  getting  on  his 
feet.  "I  dunno  'bout  this  hyer  rope,  but  I'll  make  my 
try." 

Merriwell  asked  that  the  trapeze  be  given  a  quicker 
movement.  It  dropped  like  a  bird  with  a  broken  wing, 
and  Higgins'  noose  flew  up  to  meet  it. 

The  rope  kinked  and  seemed  about  to  fall  short,  but 
it  caught  the  tip  end  of  the  bar,  hung  and  tightened, 
and  the  descent  of  the  trapeze  was  stayed. 

Merriwell  had  secured  a  cane,  round  whose  center 
he  wrapped  a  white  handkerchief  to  make  it  more 
conspicuous. 

"I  want  Gene  Skelding  to  throw  this  cane  whirling 
through  the  air  in  that  direction!"  he  requested,  indi- 
cating the  direction.  "Let  him  throw  for  both  Blud- 
soe  and  Higgins." 

Skelding  flushed  and  colored.  Merriwell  had  made 
some  of  the  throws,  and  Skelding  had  been  claiming 
that  the  throws  made  by  Merry  for  Bludsoe  were  not 
as  fair  and  easy  as  those  made  for  Higgins. 

He  would  have  backed  out,  but  the  sophomores 
pushed  him  forward,  and  he  took  the  cane  from  Mer- 
riwell's  hand,  and  sent  it  spinning  end  over  end,  as 
directed. 

This  was  one  of  the  most  difficult  roping-feats  that 
could  have  been  chosen,  for  the  object  was  to  put  the 


36  Sport  With  the  Lassos. 

noose  of  the  lasso  over  the  flying  cane,  and  so  bring  it 
down. 

Bludsoe's  noose  struck  the  whirling  cane,  but  simply 
sent  it  on  faster. 

Then  there  were  shouts  for  Higgins,  and  he  rose 
in  all  his  cowboy  dignity. 

"Gents,  I  ain't  a-sayin'  that  I'm  goin'  to  do  this,  but 
I'm  goin'  to  try.  I  reckon  I  couldn't  do  it  every  time 
with  the  best  rope  ever  strung  acrost  a  floor.  But 
I'm  goin'  to  try!" 

Skelding  saw  that  Merriwell  was  watching  him 
closely  and  that  the  eyes  of  others  were  on  him,  so 
that,  in  spite  of  his  desire  to  make  an  unfair  toss,  he 
did  not  dare  to. 

The  wrapped  cane  flew  out  again,  a  whirling  white 
streak,  and  Higgins'  rope  shot  after  it.  He  had  nerved 
himself  to  make  the  throw  of  his  life,  and  he  made  it 
The  stiff  hemp  rope  swept  through  the  air  with  the 
sinuosity  of  a  serpent,  and  the  noose,  dropping  over  an 
end  of  the  cane,  brought  the  cane  to  the  floor. 

There  could  be  no  question  that  Higgins  had  won, 
and  won  fairly;  for  not  only  had  he  won  this  trick 
handsomely,  but  throughout  the  contest  he  had  shown 
that,  even  with  the  handicap  of  the  stiff  hemp  rope,  he 
could  do  as  good  work  as  Bludsoe  with  his  smooth, 
supple  riata. 

"Curse  the  luck!"  Skelding  growled  to  his  friends, 
the  Chickering  set,  some  time  afterward,  when  all 
were  in  Chickering's  rooms.  "Do  you  suppose  that 
Merriwell  knew  I  cut  that  rope?" 


Sport  With  the  Lassos.  37 

"Did  you  cut  it  ?"  Chickering  gasped. 

"Of  course  I  did.    I  wonder  if  Merriwell  knew  it  ?" 

"Well,  it  wath  the  handthometht  thing  I've  known 
done  in  many  a  day!"  purred  Lew  Veazie.  "Chum- 
mieth,  we'll  have  to  dwink  thome  wine  on  that !  That 
wath  gweat!" 

"But  the  fellow  won,  anyhow!"  Skelding  snarled. 
"And  what  I  did  only  made  his  victory  seem  the 
greater.  It  was  a  regular  boomerang!  And  my  plan 
was  to  claim  that  some  of  his  friends  cut  the  thing 
for  him  to  prevent  ?  im  from  going  to  the  defeat  they 
foresaw.  I  can't  m.  xe  that  claim  now,  confound  it !" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AN   APPARENT    CHANGE   OF   HEART. 

Sunday  afternoon  Dade  Morgan  received  a  call 
from  Donald  Pike.  The  northeaster  had  turned  to  a 
snowstorm.  Pike  shook  from  his  coat  the  feathery 
flakes  as  he  came  into  Dade's  room. 

"There  is  to  be  a  snowball  battle  in  the  campus  in 
the  morning1,  before  college  hours,  between  sopho- 
mores and  freshmen.  I'm  told  that  you're  to  lead  the 
freshmen." 

"That's  the  plan  now,"  said  Dade.    "Have  a  chair." 

Pike  hung  up  his  coat  as  if  he  were  at  home,  and 
seated  himself.  Dade  closed  the  door,  for  he  had  a 
feeling  that  Pike  desired  to  say  something  that  ought 
not  to  go  beyond  the  walls  of  the  room. 

"There's  only  one  thing  in  this  whole  business  that 
I  don't  like,"  Pike  began. 

"You  mean  of  the  entertainments?" 

"Yes." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Merriwell!" 

"There  are  others  I  like  myself  better  than  Merri- 
well." 

"That  sounded  funny.  'I  like  myself  better  than 
Merriwell !'  Of  course  you  do." 

"You  know  what  I  mean  " 


An  Apparent  Change  of  Heart.         39 

"It  seems  to  me  that  these  'entertainments,*  as 
they're  called,  are  planned  solely  to  cover  Merriwell 
with  glory.  That's  the  thing  I  don't  like.  He  pro- 
posed them,  of  course.  Some  way,  he  always  pro- 
poses everything,  and  then  the  rest  fall  in  like  a  flock 
of  sheep  following  their  leader.  We're  not  celebrating 
Merriwell's  victories,  but  the  victories  of  Yale.  Yet 
the  fellows  are  already  calling  them  'Frank  Merri- 
well's Entertainments.' ' 

"You're  warm!" 

"I'm  hot  as  a  cake  of  ice !" 

"I  think  I've  seen  you  in  that  frame  of  mind  be- 
fore !"  commented  Dade,  with  the  utmost  coolness. 

"Another  thing  I  don't  like,  and  which  I  should 
think  you  wouldn't  like,  is  the  way  he  has  of  pushing 
Starbright  forward.  He  seems  determined  to  make 
Starbright  the  king  of  the  freshmen." 

Dade's  face  darkened,  and  Pike  saw  that  he  had 
struck  a  vulnerable  spot.  Yet  Dade  only  said  coldly: 

"I  don't  need  to  be  told  that!" 

"And  you  haven't  anything  to  say  about  it  ?" 

"I've  had  a  good  deal  to  say  about  it,  at  one  time 
and  another." 

"You're  the  real  king  of  the  freshmen,  Morgan,  and 

you  know  it.     All  your  friends  know  it.     It's  for  the 

freshmen  to  say  who  shall  be  their  leader.    Yet  here 

|  comes  a  senior  to  dictate  who  the  freshman  leader 

shall  be!" 

"I'd  like  to  help  it  if  I  could.  I  don't  see  any  way 
to  help  it  just  now." 


40        An  Apparent  Change  of  Heart. 

Pike  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"Perhaps  not.  Merriwell  seems  to  have  the  whip- 
hand  at  present." 

He  glanced  toward  the  door. 

"No  need  to  fear  that  you'll  be  heard  outside  of  this 
room !" 

"Well,  about  that  snowball  battle  in  the  morning?" 

"We'll  do  up  the  sophomores,  all  right." 

"I  hope  so.  But  that  wasn't  it.  You  ought  to  be 
able  to  do  up  Starbright,  also,  while  you're  about  it." 

There  was  not  the  encouragement  in  Dade's  face 
that  he  hoped  to  see,  but  he  went  on. 

"I've  heard  of  soldiers  being  shot  accidentally  by 
their  own  men!  Stonewall  Jackson  was  killed  that 
way!" 

Dade  looked  at  him  earnestly. 

"You  want  me  to  do  that  work?" 

"Well,  I  thought  you  might  thank  me  for  a  sugges- 
tion. You  hate  Starbright.  There's  your  opportunity. 
When  the  fight  is  on,  a  snowball  with  a  rock  hidden 
in  it  would  bring  that  big  freshman  down  like  a  bullet 
if  it  was  thrown  right." 

Dade  flushed,  and,  getting  up,  took  a  turn  round  the 
room. 

"I'd  do  it  myself  if  I  were  one  of  the  freshmen 
fighters.  As  it  is,  I  give  you  the  suggestion  for  what 
it  is  worth." 

He  began  to  feel  that  Morgan  would  accept  and  act 
upon  the  suggestion.  Dade  came  back  and  sat  down. 


An  Apparent  Change  of  Heart.        41 

"I  ought  to  thank  you  for  that,  Pike,"  he  said  in  a 
low  tone.  "I'm  no  better  than  I  ought  to  be,  and  I 
presume  that  if  you  had  come  to  me  yesterday,  I 
should  have  thanked  you  for  this.  But  I  don't  think 
I'll  try  to  do  what  you  say." 

Donald  Pike  stared. 

"Getting  goody-goody  ?" 

"No,  it's  not  that!" 

"Just  the  same  with  all  of  them!"  Pike  snarled 
under  his  breath. 

"I  don't  think  I  understand  you  if  you  meant  that 
for  me." 

"Well,  you  are  just  like  all  the  others!"  Pike  as- 
serted almost  fiercely.  "I  don't  know  why  it  is,  for  it 
hasn't  worked  on  me  that  way,  but  nearly  every  fel- 
low who  has  started  in  here  at  Yale  to  down  Merri- 
well  has  done  one  of  two  things :  He  has  either  be- 
come afraid  of  Merriwell  and  practically  dropped  out 
of  the  fight,  or  he  has  gone  over  to  Merriwell." 

Dade's  face  was  again  flushing. 

"There  was  Buck  Badger!  I've  told  you  of  him 
before.  He  was  the  bitterest  enemy  Frank  Merriwell 
had  for  a  while,  and  he  ended  by  becoming  a  Merri- 
well maniac.  He  thinks  now  that  there  never  was 
another  such  man  on  earth.  Why,  I've  been  told  that 
even  Browning  and  Hodge,  two  fellows  who  can't 
think  unless  Merriwell  first  gives  them  license,  were 
once  his  enemies!  You're  traveling  the  same  road. 
I  was  Badger's  chum  and  saw  how  he  went  over  to 
Frank  Merriwell,  and  you're  struck  with  the  same 


42        An  Apparent  Change  of  Heart. 

symptoms.  What  in  thunder  is  the  matter  with  all 
you  fellows,  anyway?" 

"It  was  Starbright  you  wanted  me  to  strike  with  a 
rock,  I  believe?"  said  Morgan,  not  pleased  with  this 
lecture. 

"Yes." 

"Starbright  isn't  Merriwell." 

"But  he's  Merriwell's  protege,  and  when  you  can't 
strike  Merriwell  himself,  the  best  way  to  get  at  him 
is  to  strike  Starbright,  or  some  other  of  his  friends. 
But  you  needn't  do  it  if  you  don't  care  to.  It  was 
merely  a  suggestion." 

"I'm  still  against  Merriwell.  Don't  let  yourself  for- 
get that,  Pike!" 

"But  you  won't  be  at  the  end  of  the  year." 

"And  I'm  still  against  Dick  Starbright." 

"I  don't  think  so." 

"I've  a  reason  for  not  trying  to  do  what  you  sug- 
gest. It  isn't  because  I've  suddenly  grown  too  good. 
Perhaps  I  have  a  little  honor  left,  Pike,  though  you 
mightn't  think  it.  Not  enough  to  boast  of,  I  pre- 
sume!" 

"You  haven't  heard  of  it,  but  yesterday  Starbright 
saved  me  from  being  half-killed  by  a  tough  that  I 
met  while  out  wheeling.  The  place  was  a  lonely  one 
in  the  suburbs,  and  I  was  wheeling  with  Miss  Thorn- 
ton. I  met  the  tough  in  a  drinking-den  a  few  nights 
ago,  and  struck  him  with  a  beer-glass,  after  we'd  had 
some  words.  When  he  saw  me  yesterday  he  came  at 


An  Apparent  Change  of  Heart.         43 

me  for  revenge,  tripped  me  off  my  wheel,  and  then, 
while  I  was  too  shaken  up  by  the  jar  of  the  fall  to  be 
able  to  do  much,  he  set  on  me,  and  would  have 
pounded  and  kicked  me  to  a  jelly.  Starbright  hap- 
pened along  at  that  moment.  He  took  a  hand  in  the 
game — and  I'm  here  to-day,  instead  of  being  in  the 
hospital." 

Both  were  silent  for  a  moment  after  the  comple- 
tion of  the  story. 

"He  did  you  a  good  turn,  and  maybe  you're  right. 
But  really,  I  didn't  think  you  had  any  soft  spots  about 
you." 

"You  thought  such  a  thing  wouldn't  make  any  dif- 
ference ?" 

"Yes,  honestly,  that's  what  I  thought." 

"And  you  thought  I  had  no  heart  at  all  ?" 

Pike  was  quite  blunt. 

"I  thought  you  had  something  like  a  gizzard  doing 
duty  for  that  organ.  But  it's  all  right,  of  course!  I 
suppose  I'd  feel  the  same  way  if  any  fellow  should 
stand  up  for  me  in  such  a  fight." 

"It  wasn't  a  fight  on  my  part.  I  was  clean  knocked 
out.  I  would  have  been  hammered  to  pieces." 

"Let  the  thing  drop,  then!"  Pike  begged.  "And 
say  nothing  about  it  to  any  one.  I  didn't  know  you 
had  changed  in  your  feeling!" 

The  sneer  stung  Bade  Morgan. 

"I  thought  I  should  never  let  an  opportunity  go  by 
to  strike  at  Starbright  or  Merriwell.  I'll  get  over  this 


44        An  Apparent  Change  of  Heart. 

in  a  day  or  two.  But  I  can't  forget  quite  so  quick. 
Starbright  will  do  or  say  something  soon  that  will 
make  me  forget  his  favor,  and  then  I  presume  I'll  be 
ready  to  hammer  him  up.  But  to-morrow,  in  that 
battle,  I'm  going  to  play  fair,  so  far  as  he's  concerned, 
at  least." 

"Good-by!"  snarled  Pike,  rising.  "You  can  keep 
your  face  closed  about  this,  anyway !" 

"See  here,  Pike!" 

The  voice  was  so  hard  and  commanding  that  Don 
Pike  stopped. 

"I'm  a  fool !  Don't  fancy  for  a  minute  that  I  would 
mention  such  a  matter.  You've  stood  by  me,  even 
though  you're  not  a  freshman,  and  I  don't  forget  it. 
Some  other  time  I'll  be  likely  to  strike  at  Dick  Star- 
bright.  Just  now  I  feel  a  little  queer  about  that  mat- 
ter, and  I  can't.  That's  the  truth  of  it." 

"I'm  going!" 

"Just  remember  that  And  if  you've  any  bets  to 
lay,  put  them  on  the  freshmen." 

"If  they  win,  Starbright  will  get  most  of  the  glory ! 
It  doesn't  matter  to  me,  though.  I'm  not  trying  to 
beat  him  in  the  race  for  the  freshmen  leadership.  You 
are." 

Dade  Morgan  sat  for  a  long  time  in  silence  after 
Donald  Pike's  departure.  Finally  he  roused  himself. 

"I  wish  the  fellow  hadn't  come  to  me  with  that!" 
he  thought,  rising.  "Either  that,  or  I  wish  that  it 
hadn't  been  necessary  for  Starbright  to  come  to  my 


An  Apparent  Change  of  Heart.         45 

help  yesterday  afternoon.  I  wonder  what  Rosalind 
thinks  about  it?  I  fancied  she  was  somewhat  cool  to 
me  after  it.  No  doubt  he  is  her  hero  now,  and  I'm 
nothing.  Well,  if  he  wants  her  again,  he  can  have 
her!" 


CHAPTER  V. 

STARBRIGHT  SHOWS   HIS   LEADERSHIP. 

The  crisp  air  that  blew  across  the  famous  Yale 
quadrangle  was  filled  with  flying  snowballs.  The 
freshmen,  under  the  leadership  of  Dade  Morgan,  were 
battling  with  the  sophomores,  under  the  command  of 
Jack  Ready. 

At  one  end  of  the  quadrangle  a  snow-fort  had  been 
built.  It  was  held  by  the  freshmen,  and  the  sopho- 
mores were  allowed  twenty  minutes  in  which  to  take  it. 

The  plan  of  the  battle,  of  Merriwell's  devising,  con- 
templated after  that  the  rebuilding  of  the  fort  and  a 
change  of  sides,  permitting  the  sophomores  to  hold 
the  fort  and  the  freshmen  to  become  the  assaulting 
party. 

Behind  the  snowy  walls  of  the  fort  and  out  in  the 
open  where  the  sophomores  were  collected  were  great 
piles  of  snowballs,  the  artillery,  grape-and-cannister  of 
the  contending  forces.  The  snow  was  in  the  best  of 
condition  for  the  purpose,  balling  readily  under  pres- 
sure into  light  yet  compact  missiles. 

Ready  had  directed  his  men  to  begin  with  a  fierce 
"rifle-fire"  of  snowballs,  and  then  charge  the  fort  be- 
fore the  freshmen  could  recover  from  the  hail  of  balls ; 
and  the  sophomores  were  doing  their  best  to  follow 
his  instructions. 


Starbright  Shows  His  Leadership.      47 

Nothing  was  to  be  used,  however,  but  snowballs  and 
snow.  Tackling  with  the  hands,  and  all  rough  work, 
such  as  kicking  or  striking  or  the  use  of  other  than 
snow  missiles,  was  strictly  barred,  and  every  offender 
was  to  be  summarily  ejected  from  the  fight,  with  the 
loss  of  his  services  to  his  side, 

Merriwell  stood  with  his  old  friends  Browning  and 
Hodge  at  one  side  of  the  quadrangle,  all  interested 
spectators.  Merriwell  was  the  umpire  to  decide  on 
fouls  of  all  kinds,  with  the  power  of  expulsion  from 
the  play  of  every  offender. 

The  freshmen  behind  the  walls  met  the  rain  of 
freshmen  snowballs  with  a  counter-fire  that  was  as 
hot  as  they  could  make  it. 

"Better  save  our  ammunition  for  closer  quarters!" 
Starbright  advised,  venturing  to  speak  to  Morgan. 

The  interference  stung  Morgan  to  the  quick. 

"Who's  commander  here?"  he  snarled. 

"You  are.     I  only  make  the  suggestion." 

Morgan  moved  away,  and,  as  if  to  show  that  he  dis- 
liked the  interference,  he  gave  commands  that  caused 
the  freshman  fire  to  grow  even  hotter.  Seeing  that 
this  was  the  order,  and  determined  to  be  in  the  front 
rank,  Starbright  flew  to  the  nearest  opening,  and,  with 
an  armful  of  snowballs,  rained  them  on  the  sopho- 
mores. 

He  had  scarcely  done  this  when  he  felt  a  crushing 
blow  on  the  back  of  the  head  which  tumbled  him 
half-senseless  on  his  face.  As  he  rose,  staggering, 


48       Starbright  Shows  His  Leadership. 

and  felt  of  his  head,  he  found  blood  trickling  down 
over  his  fingers. 

The  ball  that  had  struck  him  had  "exploded,"  and, 
noticing  it  at  his  feet,  he  saw  that  in  its  center  there 
had  been  a  ragged  rock. 

The  air  was  filled  with  flying  snowballs.  Never- 
theless, feeling  wofully  faint  and  dizzy,  he  turned 
squarely  round,  cowering  meanwhile  behind  the  snow 
embankment,  and  looked  over  the  freshmen. 

"Morgan  did  that !"  he  thought.  "I'd  bet  anything 
Morgan  did  that !" 

Yet  it  seemed  strange  that  a  commander  should 
want  to  knock  out  one  of  his  own  men. 

Starbright  picked  up  the  rock  and  looked  at  it.  Then 
he  thrust  it  into  his  pocket  and  again  felt  of  his  cut 
and  bleeding  head. 

"Hello!"  said  Dashleigh,  seeing  blood  on  Star- 
bright's  fingers  and  the  stain  of  it  on  the  snow. 

"Hit  with  this !"  said  Dick,  producing  the  rock.  "It 
came  near  laying  me  out." 

The  big  fellow  was  reeling  sick,  but  he  tried  to  con- 
ceal it  And  as  there  was  no  possibility  of  telling  who 
threw  the  stone,  he  gathered  himself  together,  tied  up 
his  head  with  his  handkerchief,  and  again  went  into 
the  fight. 

Dade  was  now  in  front  of  him,  at  the  head  of  his 
men,  though  a  short  time  before,  as  Starbright  knew, 
he  had  been  in  the  rear. 

As  Dick  straightened  up  and  reentered  the  fight  he 


Starbright  Shows  His  Leadership.      49 

saw  a  ball  strike  Morgan  in  the  back  of  the  head,  saw 
the  ball  split  open,  and,  as  it  fell,  saw  a  ragged  stone 
drop  out  of  it. 

Dade  went  down  on  his  face  insensible. 

Dick  half-wheeled  to  ascertain  from  what  point  the 
treacherous  missile  came,  but  at  that  moment  he  col- 
lided with  Dashleigh  and  fell. 

"Pardon  I"  Dashleigh  bellowed,  racing  to  a  point 
that  he  thought  needed  defense. 

The  fire  of  the  attacking  party  was  slacking,  and 
Dick  felt  sure  that  an  assault  was  to  come. 

Morgan  lay  insensible,  and  Dick  saw  a  red  stain  on 
the  snow. 

"Was  that  an  accident?"  was  his  thought.  "Were 
they  both  accidents?  If  so,  some  of  our  men  aren't 
fighting  fair,  but  are  putting  stones  in  the  snowballs." 

It  was  so  comtemptible  a  trick  that  his  blood  boiled 
and  he  felt  ashamed  that  such  men  could  be  among 
freshmen. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  thought.  There  seemed 
to  be  no  time  for  anything,  for,  under  the  lead  of 
Ready,  the  sophomores  were  advancing  to  the  charge. 

Outside,  the  students  and  other  spectators  were 
wildly  shouting  and  whooping.  The  rain  of  snow- 
balls had  been'  so  thick  that  the  fall  of  Starbright  and 
Morgan  had  not  been  perceived  even  by  the  keen  eyes 
of  Frank  Merriwell. 

"Take  care  of  him !"  Starbright  commanded,  speak- 
ing to  two  of  the  freshmen. 


5o      Starbright  Shows  His  Leadership. 

These  two  were  not  in  the  fighting-line,  but  had  been 
detailed,  with  two  others,  by  Morgan  to  manufacture 
snow  ammunition. 

The  freshmen  had  been  weakened  by  Morgan's  fall, 
and  now  were  wavering  and  undecided.  But  the  in- 
stant that  Starbright  sprang  into  position  at  their  head 
and  began  to  utter  sharp,  quick  commands,  they  recog- 
nized his  natural  leadership  and  gave  him  instant  obe- 
dience. 

"Hold  them  back!"  Starbright  roared. 

Fierce  as  the  fight  had  been,  the  ammunition  was  not 
all  exhausted;  and  the  two  men  left  for  this  purpose 
began  to  heap  a  great  mound  of  balls  at  the  feet  of  the 
fighters. 

"Charge  'em!"  came  in  the  shrill  voice  of  Jack 
Ready;  and,  with  their  arms  filled  with  snow,  the 
sophomores  came  on  in  a  mighty,  sweeping  rush. 

"Now,  give  it  to  'em!"  Starbright  roared  back. 

Ready,  in  the  lead,  was  right  against  the  walls,  with 
a  dozen  of  his  men  at  his  heels. 

"Snow!  snow!"  Starbright  bellowed. 

It  was  a  signal  agreed  on,  having  been  issued  by 
Morgan  before  the  beginning  of  the  fight. 

The  snowballs  in  the  hands  of  the  freshmen  were 
thrown;  then  great  armfuls  of  snow  were  picked  up 
and  dashed  into  the  faces  and  eyes  of  the  advancing 
sophomores. 

Ready  mounted  the  wall  and  fell  over  on  the  inside. 
His  men  tried  to  emulate  his  example.  Four  of  them 


Starbright  Shows  His  Leadership.       51 

came  over  with  Ready,  but  the  others  were  beaten  back 
and  almost  smothered. 

Then  Ready  and  Starbright  found  themselves  face 
to  face.  At  it  they  went,  each  digging  up  snow  by  the 
armful  and  hurling  it  at  the  head  and  face  of  his  op- 
ponent. 

Ready  fought  blithely  and  chirpingly,  pushing  the 
snow  out  of  his  mouth  and  eyes.  But  a  great  armful 
fell  on  him  out  of  the  arms  of  the  giant  freshman, 
and  Ready  fell  under  it. 

As  if  in  a  frenzy,  Starbright  danced  about,  heaping 
snow  and  still  more  snow  on  the  prostrate  freshman 
leader,  until,  from  beneath  his  snowy  covering,  Ready 
was  willing  to  confess  his  defeat. 

"Let  up!"  he  begged.  "I'm  not  an  Esquimaux! 
My  maux  is  full  now,  clean  down  to  my  twinkling 
toes." 

The  other  sophomores  had  been  overthrown,  and  the 
assault  had  failed. 

The  time  was  so  nearly  up  that  it  was  seen  to  be 
impossible  for  the  sophomores  to  take  the  fort  in  the 
few  minutes  remaining.  So  there  was  a  truce. 

Two  of  Ready's  men  had  been  hurt,  and  another 
of  Starbright's ;  but  not  by  snowballs  containing  pieces 
of  rock. 

Morgan  was  so  weak  from  the  effect  of  the  blow 
that  it  was  seen  he  could  not  again  assume  the  leader- 
ship of  the  freshmen. 

Sitting  on  a  heap  of  snow,  white  and  weak,  he 


52       Starbright  Shows  His  Leadership. 

looked  up  at  Starbright,  as  the  latter  walked  over  to 
inquire  about  his  injury. 

"You  did  that,  you  sneak !"  he  hissed. 

Starbright  grew  red. 

"If  so,  who  did  that?" 

Dick  showed  the  wound  in  his  own  head. 

"I  was  knocked  down  by  a  snowball  just  before  you 
were,  and  my  head  was  split  open.  I  saw  the  ball 
strike  you." 

"You  were  behind  me,  then?"  said  Morgan, 

"Yes,  and  I  saw  the  ball  strike  you,  and  saw  that  it 
held  a  stone.  Here  is  the  delightful  piece  of  granite 
that  struck  me!" 

Starbright  produced  it. 

"Well,  you  know  I  didn't  throw  that !" 

"I  thought  you  did,  until  I  saw  you  get  one  of  the 
same  kind.  Now  I  don't  know  what  to  think!" 

"Oh,  I  guess  you  threw  it,  all  right!"  Morgan 
grunted.  "You  were  mad  because  I  told  you  to  mind 
your  own  business." 

Starbright  walked  away. 

"I  don't  know  who  did  it,"  he  said  to  Merriwell, 
explaining  the  whole  matter.  "Dade  thinks  I  threw 
the  stone  that  struck  him,  but  I  wouldn't  be  fool 
enough  to  bang  up  my  own  head  in  this  way." 

"I'll  try  to  look  into  the  thing,"  was  the  promise. 
"Dade  is  too  weak  to  go  on  with  the  play.  It  was  a 
rascally  piece  of  business,  and  I'm  tempted  to  call  off 
the  battle  because  of  it.  The  freshmen  want  you  for 


Starbright  Shows  His  Leadership.       53 

captain  during  the  continuance  of  the  fight  if  it's  to 
go  on.    But  you're  looking  pretty  weak." 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right !"  Dick  earnestly  asserted.  "Give 
us  another  man  in  the  place  of  Morgan,  and  we'll  take 
the  fort  from  the  sophomores,  or  know  why !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CAPTURING   THE   FORT. 

The  snowball  battle  was  raging  again,  with  Dick 
Starbright  captain  of  the  freshmen  and  Jack  Ready  of 
the  sophomores. 

There  had  been  some  hasty  preliminary  work  given 
to  the  manufacture  of  an  abundant  supply  of  ammuni- 
tion. Now,  with  great  heaps  of  snowballs  near  each 
man  and  deposited  along  the  line  of  advance,  and  with 
other  snowy  heaps  inside  the  reconstructed  fort,  the 
conflict  was  on  once  more. 

"Don't  throw  away  your  ammunition.  Take  time 
to  aim,  and  throw  to  hit  something  whenever  you 
throw.  It  don't  do  any  good  to  hammer  the  walls  of 
the  fort.  Aim  at  the  openings  and  at  the  men  behind 
the  walls!" 

These  were  Starbright's  instructions,  and  his  men 
were  trying  to  carry  them  out.  The  balls  for  this  rea- 
son, did  not  fly  so  thick  and  fast  as  when  the  sopho- 
mores were  the  attacking  force,  but  they  did  quite  as 
much  execution. 

Starbright  intended  to  make  the  preliminary  "rifle- 
fire"  and  "cannonade"  comparatively  short,  and  charge 
suddenly,  in  the  effort  to  take  the  sophomores  by  sur- 
prise. But  when  his  forces  quickly  ceased  raining 
snowballs  on  the  white  fort  and  swept  forward,  they 


Capturing  the  Fort.  55 

found  themselves  confronted  by  the  sophomores  leap- 
ing the  walls  and  coming  at  them. 

Ready  had  ordered  a  sortie  in  force,  for  the  purpose 
of  surprising  the  freshmen.  In  the  front  of  the  walls 
of  the  snow  fort  the  contending  parties  came  together. 

Unfortunately  for  Ready's  plan,  some  of  his  men, 
seeing  the  freshmen  coming,  did  not  leap  over  the 
walls,  but  remained  behind  them;  and  these,  now  be- 
ginning to  shoot  snowballs  at  the  enemy,  rained  their 
missiles  alike  on  friends  and  foes.  Within  less  than 
a  minute  it  was  hard  to  tell  sophomores  from  fresh- 
men, for  each  party,  in  attempting  to  shower  and  beat 
down  the  other  with  armfuls  of  snow,  found  its  mem- 
bers transformed  into  snowy  images  of  men,  in  which 
clothing  and  features  were  hidden  under  the  white 
coating. 

Again  Starbright  and  Ready  came  face  to  face.  For 
a  moment  they  stopped,  looking  at  each  other  as  if 
trying  to  measure  strength.  Ready  tossed  back  his 
hair  with  a  flirt  of  his  right  hand  that  at  the  same  time 
cleared  the  snow  out  of  his  face. 

"I'm  coming  for  you !"  he  panted. 

"Here's  where  the  Giant  of  the  Wheel  evens  the 
score!"  Starbright  laughed  back. 

Then,  with  armfuls  of  snow  suddenly  snatched  up, 
they  dived  at  each  other,  and  the  hottest  fight  of  the 
whole  field  began. 

Starbright  had  the  advantage  by  being  taller;  yet 
Ready  was  as  supple,  lithe,  and  active  as  a  panther. 

The  air  was  filled  with  snow.     Other  sophomores 


56  Capturing  the  Fort. 

and  freshmen  were  struggling  almost  as  fiercely  on 
every  side,  the  sophomores  trying  to  keep  the  fresh- 
men out  of  the  fort,  and  the  latter  desperately  strug- 
gling to  walk  over  the  opposition  and  enter  the  en- 
closure. 

Ready  went  down  under  Starbright's  assault,  but 
clung  to  one  of  Dick's  legs,  as  this  could  not  be  con- 
sidered, he  thought,  a  violation  of  Merri well's  rules. 

But  Starbright,  not  to  be  thus  impeded,  sprang 
for  the  fort,  dragging  Ready;  and  the  latter,  letting 
go  with  extraordinary  suddenness,  Starbright  fell  over 
the  wall  upon  the  inside. 

A  half-dozen  other  freshmen  had  scaled  the  wall, 
beating  back  the  opposition,  and  these  now  engaged 
with  the  defenders  of  the  fort  within. 

In  less  than  ten  minutes  from  the  time  of  the  be- 
ginning of  the  struggle  the  fort  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  victorious  freshmen. 

Dick  seized  the  flag  which  had  at  first  been  planted 
on  the  wall,  but  which  had  been  knocked  down,  and, 
mounting  to  the  defences,  swung  it  over  his  bandaged 
head  and  led  the  almost  breathless  freshmen  in  a 
cheer. 

It  was  not  loud,  for  the  freshmen  were  too  spent  to 
give  the  cheer  volume;  but  an  exploding  roar  was 
added  to  it,  coming  from  the  throat  of  Bill  Higgins, 
the  cowboy,  who  had  watched  the  fight  with  great  in- 
terest at  one  side  of  the  quadrangle,  out  of  the  way  of 
the  snowy  bullets. 

"Whoop!"  Higgins  howled,  yelling  again  when  the 


Capturing  the  Fort.  57 

freshmen  yells  subsided.  "I'd  never  believed  so  much 
fun  could  be  got  out  o'  a  little  snow.  B'jings,  that's  a 
sport  I'll  'naugurate  on  the  ranges  soon's  I  git  back 
there.  If  I  don't  wallop  and  throw  down  and  bury 
Saul  Henderson  so  deep  that  a  badger  can't  dig  him 
out,  I'm  a  liar!  That's  the  sport  fer  the  short-grass 
country!" 

He  was  speaking  to  Merriwell. 

"Which  Badger  ?"  Frank  quietly  asked. 

"Which  badger?  Why,  ye  don't  reckon  I  know  the 
names  of  all  the  badgers  of  Kansas,  do  ye?" 

Then,  seeing  the  pun,  he  roared  again. 

Starbright  came  up  to  them,  digging  the  snow  out 
of  his  hair. 

"How  is  your  head  ?"  Bruce  asked. 

Starbright  put  a  hand  to  his  bandage. 

"Oh,  I  was  so  determined  to  do  up  Jack  Ready  that 
I  forgot  I  had  a  head !" 

"You  didn't  fight  as  if  you'd  forgotten  your  head, 
anyway,"  said  Browning.  "You  kept  it  on  your  shoul- 
ders pretty  well,  I'm  thinking." 

"Yes,  that  was  a  great  fight,  Starbright !"  Merriwell 
declared  warmly.  "And  you  showed  good  leadership. 
I  want  to  congratulate  you." 

The  words  and  the  handshake  that  followed  were 
more  to  honest  Dick  Starbright  than  had  been  the  win- 
ning of  the  battle. 

That  evening  Dade  Morgan  received  another  call 
from  Donald  Pike. 

Dade's  head  was  bandaged,  but  he  had  otherwise 


58  Capturing  the  Fort. 

entirely  recovered.  The  blow  of  the  stone  hidden  in 
the  snowball  had  been  a  heavy  one,  sufficiently  heavy 
to  temporarily  knock  him  out,  but,  with  the  exception 
of  the  cut  on  the  head,  which  promised  to  heal  readily, 
he  had  already  thrown  off  its  effects. 

"Nice  little  souvenir  of  the  fun  of  the  morning!" 
said  Pike,  nodding  at  the  bandaged  head.  "I  guess 
you  know  you  have  Starbright  to  thank  for  that?" 

"I  did  think  so  at  first,  but  I  don't  know  now.  He 
denies  it." 

"Of  course  he  denies  it!  He'd  be  an  idiot  to  con- 
fess, wouldn't  he?" 

"Then  who  struck  him?  I  didn't.  How  do  you 
account  for  the  fact  that  he  was  also  hit  on  the  head 
with  a  stone  hidden  in  another  snowball?" 

"You're  easy,  Morgan!" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  Dade  queried, 
flushing. 

"Just  what  I  say.  You're  dead  easy.  Starbright 
threw  that  snowball.  How  do  I  know?  Jimmy  Sel- 
don  saw  him !" 

Dade  straightened  in  his  chair,  while  the  dark  look 
on  his  face  deepened. 

"Did  Seldon  tell  you  that?" 

"Oh,  I'm  giving  it  to  you  straight!  You  were  so 
soft  that  you  declared  you'd  play  fair  in  that  battle, 
and  the  man  you  were  to  play  fair  with  gave  you  that." 

"Then  who  hit  Starbright?" 

"He  wasn't  hit.  He  fell  as  he  was  rushing  toward 
the  walls  of  the  fort,  and  was  kicked  on  the  head  by 


Capturing  the  Fort.  59 

accident.  The  kick  laid  open  his  head;  and  he  made 
a  great  fuss  about  it  for  the  purpose  of  making  you 
think  that  he,  too,  was  hit  on  the  head.  That's  all 
there  was  to  that.  Seldon  was  in  the  rear  at  the  time, 
and  saw  the  whole  thing !" 

"Why  didn't  Seldon  come  and  tell  me,  then?" 

"He's  ready  to  tell  you  now !" 

Don  Pike  pushed  the  door  open,  and  a  stripling, 
with  a  pale,  nervous  face,  entered.  He  came  in  hesi- 
tatingly and  stood  with  hat  in  hand  till  Dade  asked 
him  to  take  a  seat. 

Morgan  knew  Seldon  well,  and  did  not  highly  re- 
gard him,  though  the  fellow  had  been  one  of  the 
twenty  freshmen  selected  to  take  part  in  the  snowball 
battle. 

"We've  talked  it  over,  and  Seldon  is  ready  to  tell 
you  all  about  it,"  said  Pike,  as  Seldon  dropped  into  a 
chair. 

"Yes,  I  saw  it!"  Seldon  avowed.  "Starbright  was 
behind  you,  and  he  aimed  that  snowball  straight  at 
your  head,  while  pretending  to  be  aiming  it  at  the 
sophomores.  I  was  so  close  to  him  that  I'm  sure  I 
couldn't  be  mistaken." 

"Did  you  see  Starbright  when  he  was  struck?" 
Dade  asked,  his  heart  flaming  again  against  Dick. 

"No.  I  don't  think  he  was  struck.  He  fell,  and 
one  of  the  fellows  kicked  him.  I  think  so,  anyway, 
for  I  saw  a  fellow  stumble  over  him.  A  moment  later 
I  saw  there  was  blood  on  Starbright's  fingers.  But 
I'm  sure  he  wasn't  hit  by  a  ball." 


60  Capturing  the  Fort. 

"Why  didn't  you  make  a  report  of  it  to  Merriwell, 
or  to  me?"  Morgan  demanded. 

"Well,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  was  afraid  to." 

"Afraid  to?" 

"Afraid  of  Dick.  He  would  say  it  was  a  lie,  and 
perhaps  try  to  take  it  out  of  my  hide.  So  I  kept  still." 

"And  only  told  Pike?" 

"Yes.  Pike  and  I  have  been  pretty  good  friends, 
and  we  got  to  talking  about  the  fight,  and  I  told  him." 

"And  I  insisted  that  he  should  come  and  tell  you," 
said  Pike.  "I  thought  you  ought  to  know  it." 

Morgan  looked  at  Seldon. 

"This  is  all  right!"  he  declared.  "I'm  glad  you 
came  to  me  with  it.  You  needn't  think  I'll  blab  and 
get  you  into  trouble.  It's  not  my  way." 

"I  assured  Seldon  that  it  would  be  perfectly  safe 
for  him  to  tell  you,  though  he  was  doubtful  at  first." 

"No,  I  won't  say  anything  about  it.  But  I'll  get 
even  with  Dick  Starbright!" 

When  Seldon  had  gone,  Pike  sat  talking  with  Mor- 
gan for  some  time,  trying  to  fan  into  fiercer  energy 
the  anger  which  Dade  again  felt  toward  the  big  fresh- 
man. Starbright  was  Merriwell's  friend,  and  Pike 
had  come  to  hate  Merriwell  so  much  that  he  wanted 
to  injure  whomever  Merriwell  liked,  though  Frank 
had  never  done  anything  to  win  such  enmity  from 
Donald  Pike.  There  are  some  natures,  however,  which 
increasingly  hate  the  man  they  try  to  injure,  and  their 
hate  grows  more  and  more  bitter  with  each  failure. 


Capturing  the  Fort.  61 

Pike  really  feared  to  test  strength  with  Merriwell, 
hence  resorted  to  the  use  of  tools  to  accomplish  what 
he  feared  to  attempt  himself. 

Scarcely  was  Pike  gone  when  Roland  Packard  came 
in  with  Gene  Skelding.  With  Don  Pike,  they  formed 
a  trio  who  seemed  to  live  on  hate  of  Merriwell.  They 
were  no  sooner  seated  than  they  began  to  talk  of  the 
snowball  fight  of  the  morning,  and  of  the  blow  which 
Morgan  had  received. 

"It  was  Starbright  who  did  that,"  said  Skelding. 
"I  know,  because  I  saw  it.  I  was  standing  near  one 
of  the  monuments  where  I  had  a  good  view  of  all  that 
was  going  on.  I  thought,  when  I  saw  him  lift  his 
hand  to  throw,  that  he  was  aiming  at  the  sophomores, 
but  when  I  saw  you  drop  as  if  you  were  hit  by  a  rifle- 
bullet,  I  knew  whom  he  had  aimed  at." 

If  Dade  Morgan  had  doubted  the  story  told  by 
Jimmy  Seldon,  this  would  have  driven  away  his 
doubts. 

"It's  all  right,  fellows,  and  I'm  obliged  to  you.  I 
shall  remember  that  little  blow  against  Richard  Star- 
bright.  You  needn't  be  afraid  that  I  won't.  He  did 
me  a  good  turn  the  other  day,  and  I  was  feeling  a  bit 
soft  toward  him,  but  I  shall  not  hold  back  now." 

"I  don't  know  how  you  are  going  to  even  the  score 
with  him,"  Packard  craftily  suggested. 

"Oh,  there  are  plenty  of  ways,"  Morgan  snarled. 
"I'll  find  a  way." 

"Or  make  one?" 

"Or  make  one!" 


62  Capturing  the  Fort. 

"Well,  you  know  that  you  can  count  on  our  aid  in 
anything  you  want  to  undertake." 

There  were  times  when  Dade  Morgan  despised  these 
tools.  He  saw  their  innate  cowardice,  but  often  he 
felt  forced  to  use  them,  for  he  knew  he  could  not  fight 
the  battle  he  had  undertaken  against  Merriwell  alone. 

When  his  pretended  friends  had  departed,  he  sat  for 
a  long  time  alone,  lost  in  thought,  trying  to  plan  some 
means  to  "even  the  score"  with  the  big  freshman. 

"I  wish  Hector  King  were  here!"  he  muttered  fi- 
nally, as  he  prepared  to  turn  out  his  light.  "But  he 
has  disappeared  since  Merriwell  unmasked  him.  Given 
up  the  fight,  probably.  Well,  I  haven't  given  it  up! 
I'll  have  to  be  careful,  though,  and  strike  in  the  dark. 
Merriwell  and  Starbright  are  too  dangerous  for  me  to 
fight  them  in  the  open." 

Then  he  extinguished  his  light  and  crept  into  bed, 
where  he  lay  awake  a  long  time,  discarding  plan  after 
plan  as  impossible  or  impolitic,  and  listening  to  some 
freshmen  singing  in  another  part  of  the  building. 

The  silver  moon  crept  aloft  in  the  cold  sky  and 
looked  down  on  the  snowy  and  deserted  campus. 

Dade's  heart  burned  when  he  heard  the  deep,  rich 
voice  of  Dick  Starbright  join  in  the  rollicking  college 
songs.  Bert  Dashleigh  was  with  the  singers,  gleefully 
thumping  his  mandolin. 

By  and  by  Dade  slept. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ON  LAKE  WHITNEY. 

The  change  in  the  weather  had  brought  a  change  in 
the  character  of  "Merri  well's  Entertainments."  Down 
by  the  famous  fence  on  many  a  recent  evening  the 
"senior  committee  of  three,"  fresh  from  the  gymna- 
sium or  athletic  field,  had  discussed  and  laid  plans  for 
the  merrymaking.  The  "committee  of  three"  con- 
sisted of  Merriwell,  Browning,  and  Hodge,  into  whose 
hands  everything  had  been  committed.  Their  first 
plans  had  contemplated  field-contests,  burlesque  foot- 
ball-games, and  similar  sports,  but  the  freezing  weather 
suggested  something  new  and  different,  and  they 
promptly  accepted  the  hint  of  the  weather-clerk,  and 
made  the  change. 

When,  on  Wednesday  morning,  it  was  reported  that 
Lake  Whitney  would  bear  skaters,  the  "committee  of 
three"  decided  instantly  that  races  on  ice-skates  would 
be  the  proper  thing  for  the  half-holiday  entertainment 
of  the  students  that  afternoon. 

Except  in  spots,  the  ice  was  found  sufficiently  thick 
and  firm,  and  the  new  attraction  drew  an  immense 
crowd  to  the  shore  of  the  lake  that  afternoon.  Huge 
bonfires  were  built,  for  the  air  was  sharp  and  the 
ground  still  covered  with  snow,  and  a  prettier  picture 
can  scarcely  be  imagined  than  that  of  the  rosy-faced 


64  On  Lake  Whitney. 

girls  and  young  women  clad  in  winter  garments  gatn- 
ered  round  these  bonfires,  while  they  watched  the 
skaters  cutting  figures  and  writing  the  names  of  them- 
selves and  their  sweethearts  in  the  glassy  ice  with  their 
skates. 

Inza  and  Rosalind  were  there,  Inza  having  come 
out  with  Merriwell,  and  Rosalind  with  Dade  Morgan. 

There  was  no  prettier  skater  on  the  lake  that  after- 
noon than  Dade  Morgan.  His  movements  were  as 
graceful  as  those  of  a  bird,  and  Rosalind  watched  him 
with  pleasure,  now  and  then  casting  a  sly  glance  at  big 
Dick  Starbright,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  reading  his 
face.  She  wondered  in  the  depths  of  her  heart  if  Dick 
were  very  jealous  of  Dade,  and  told  herself  that  surely 
he  must  be. 

As  Jack  Ready  had  boasted  that  he  could  beat  Mor- 
gan in  a  mile  race,  and  Dade  had  accepted  the  chal- 
lenge, that  was  the  first  thing  on  the  program. 

"Oh,  you  can  beat  him!"  Rosalind  urged  in  the  ear 
of  her  escort. 

"Of  course  I  can  beat  him !" 

Dade  made  good  his  boast.  Jack  Ready  had  chirped 
of  himself  as  a  "winged  wonder,"  but  Morgan  beat  him 
in  at  the  finish  more  than  twenty  yards. 

"Well,  you  see,  it  was  this  way,"  Ready  explained, 
stepping  up  to  Rosalind  as  Dade  moved  to  meet  her. 
"I  knew  how  you  felt  about  it,  and  that  took  away 
my  heart.  No  one  can  skate  well  with  the  wishes  of 
a  handsome  young  lady  against  him." 


On  Lake  Whitney.  65 

"Oh,  come  off!"  Morgan  snarled.  "I  beat  you  fair 
and  square,  and  you  know  it" 

Somehow,  Morgan  had  never  appreciated  the  humor 
of  the  fellow  of  the  apple-red  cheeks. 

Ready  wiggled  his  right  hand  in  his  bland  way. 

"There's  a  fellow  over  there  you  can't  beat !" 

•'Who?" 

"Dick  Starbright." 

Rosalind's  dark  face  grew  warm,  for  the  words  had 
been  caught  up  by  Dashleigh  and  some  other  of  Dick's 
friends. 

Finding  himself  growing  angry,  Morgan  assumed 
a  smile. 

"It's  all  right!  I  don't  care  to  race  with  Star- 
bright!" 

At  the  same  time  he  was  anxious  for  the  race,  for 
he  fancied  that  he  would  be  able  to  defeat  Starbright 
more  easily  than  he  had  Ready.  His  face  showed 
nothing  of  the  anxiety  and  plotting  that  had  recently 
harassed  him,  and  as  for  the  wound  on  his  head,  the 
effects  of  it  had  entirely  passed  away,  though  there 
was  a  scar  concealed  by  the  hair  and  the  cap. 

As  Dick  was  nothing  loath  to  meet  his  enemy  in  a 
skating-race,  the  matter  was  quickly  arranged,  with 
Beckwith  for  the  starter  and  one  of  the  athletic-trainers 
for  the  timekeeper. 

As  the  contestants  skated  away,  Morgan  remem- 
bered that  Rosalind  had  not  insisted  that  he  could 
defeat  Starbright,  as  she  had  that  he  could  defeat 


66  On  Lake  Whitney. 

Ready.  He  wondered  about  it,  and  his  heart  grew 
hot. 

"I'll  beat  him,  all  the  same!"  he  determined,  and 
started  in  with  clean,  quick  strokes,  remembering  to 
skate  handsomely  at  the  same  time,  for  the  eyes  of  the 
spectators  were  on  him. 

To  all  appearances,  the  big  freshman  did  not  seem 
to  be  so  good  or  so  fast  a  skater  as  his  slighter  rival, 
but  the  wray  he  went  over  the  ice  was  surprising.  His 
stroke  was  longer,  though  not  so  quick,  and  it  took 
him  forward  with  astonishing  speed. 

Morgan  tried  to  draw  ahead  of  him,  but  found  Star- 
bright  hanging  doggedly  at  his  heels. 

Away  they  went  like  birds  down  to  the  half-mile 
point,  and,  turning  there,  came  flying  back,  with  about 
the  same  relative  distance  still  between  them,  Morgan 
skating  with  all  his  strength  and  skill,  and  Starbright, 
seeming  slow,  but  still  right  at  Morgan's  heels. 

The  crowds  on  the  shore  began  to  cheer.  Dade 
heard  it  and  increased  his  efforts.  Then  he  heard  Star- 
bright's  stroke  quicken,  and,  to  his  dismay,  saw  the 
big  fellow  go  by  him. 

The  fight  to  the  finish  was  pretty.  Starbright  still 
seemed  to  be  skating  slowly,  and  Merriwell,  who  was 
watching  him,  saw  that  the  giant  freshman  had  a  lot 
of  reserve  force,  and  that  he  was  not  doing  all  that  he 
could. 

Dashleigh  danced  up  and  down  and  almost  broke 
the  ice  through,  so  jubilant  was  he  when  he  saw  his 
big  chum  in  the  lead. 


On  Lake  Whitney.  67 

Rosalind  was  paling  and  flushing  by  turns,  and  even 
Frank,  who  glanced  at  her  occasionally,  could  hardly 
determine  whether  she  favored  Starbright  most,  or 
Morgan. 

In  the  final  twenty-five  yards  Starbright  seemed  to 
lift  himself  and  fly,  and  crossed  the  line  easily  and 
neatly  the  winner. 

The  smile  was  still  on  Morgan's  face  as  he  returned 
to  Rosalind's  side. 

"My  skates  are  dull,"  he  said.  "I  think  I  could  beat 
him  with  another  pair.  But  now  we'll  see  what  Mer- 
riwell  will  do!" 

One  of  the  interesting  things  of  the  afternoon  was 
to  be  a  race  between  Frank  Merriwell  and  Jack  Sim- 
mons, a  junior,  who  was  everywhere  noted  as  the 
"Skate  King." 

The  enemies  of  Merriwell  were  jubilant.  They  had 
openly  boasted  that  Frank  would  never  dare  to  meet 
Simmons  in  a  race  on  ice-skates,  though  they  were 
forced  to  concede  that  in  nearly  every  form  of  ath- 
letics Frank  was  the  best  man  who  had  ever  been  seen 
in  Yale.  But  Frank,  though  he  had  defeated  Jack 
Ready  and  some  others,  had  never  laid  any  claims  to  be 
a  wonder  on  skates. 

He  had  not  wanted  to  enter  a  race  against  Simmons, 
for,  in  arranging  the  "entertainments,"  his  idea  was 
to  give  others  an  opportunity  to  show  what  they  could 
do.  Therefore,  he  had  no  desire  to  exploit  his  abili- 
ties. But  he  had  finally  consented,  when  Simmons 


68  On  Lake  Whitney. 

came  to  him  and  told  him  that  he  personally  wished 
to  make  the  race. 

The  excitement  over  the  previous  contests  was  tame 
compared  with  that  now  witnessed. 

Frank  came  on  the  ice  wearing  the  winged  skates 
which  had  been  given  him  by  Inza  Burrage  the  pre- 
vious winter.  They  \vere  as  handsome  as  were  ever 
turned  out  by  a  skate-maker,  and  on  the  heels,  as  orna- 
ments, were  pairs  of  tiny  metal  wings,  in  imitation  of 
the  winged  sandals  of  Mercury. 

Jack  Simmons  wore  racing-skates  of  the  most  ap- 
proved pattern.  He  believed  that  he  was  really  the 
king  of  skaters,  and  he  was  anxious  to  prove  his  su- 
periority to  Merriwell  in  this  great  winter  sport. 

The  cheering  ceased  when  the  skaters  moved  for- 
ward side  by  side  for  the  line,  which  they  crossed  to- 
gether. It  broke  out  again  as  they  sped  away,  and 
was  renewed  as  the  racers  neared  the  half-way  point. 

"Merriwell  is  fooling  again!"  growled  Hodge,  who 
was  standing  with  Inza. 

The  skaters  neared  the  half-mile  turn,  with  Sim- 
mons slightly  in  the  lead. 

"He  will  win,  you  may  be  sure,"  said  Inza.  "Frank 
always  wins!" 

"Well,  I've  known  him  to  fail,  and  often  to  come 
near  failing  by  being  altogether  too  generous.  It's  not 
my  way !" 

Inza  smiled  sweetly  and  serenely. 

"Oh,  I  know  it  isn't,  you  fire-eater!    You  want  to 


On  Lake  Whitney.  69 

murder  everybody  who  comes  against  you  in  a  con- 
test!" 

"Well,  if  I  could  beat  them,  you  bet  I'd  beat  them, 
without  any  monkey-business!" 

There  was  no  "monkey-business"  as  Frank  came 
down  on  the  home-stretch.  He  walked  away  from 
the  skate  king  with  marvelous  ease,  the  winged  skates 
bearing  him  on  as  if  they  were  truly  winged. 

Simmons  spurted  in  an  effort  to  lessen  the  widening' 
distance,  but  found  it  impossible;  and  Frank  shot 
across  the  line  far  in  advance  of  him,  with  Inza  clap- 
ping her  hands  in  delight,  and  Hodge  growling  that 
he  knew  Merriwell  had  "monkeyed"  in  the  first  half 
of  the  race. 

There  were  other  races;  between  Beckwith  and 
Browning,  which  Bruce  won,  between  seniors  and  jun- 
iors, and  between  sophomores  and  freshmen ;  races  of 
all  kinds,  from  singles  to  team-races.  Combined  with 
all  of  this  there  were  many  exhibitions  of  fancy  ska- 
ting. 

Some  boys  came  down  to  the  shore  drawing  their 
sleds. 

"A  sled-race!"  said  Inza. 

Rosalind  heard  it.  Inza  was  talking  to  Starbright, 
and  Rosalind's  jealous  heart  was  flaming. 

"Starbright  beat  you  before,"  she  whispered  to 
Morgan.  "Perhaps  you  can  beat  him  in  a  sled-race." 

"How?"  Bade  asked. 

"Why,  don't  you  know?  When  I  went  to  school  in 
our  village  the  boys  used  to  skate  races,  drawing  girls 


7O  On  Lake  Whitney. 

on  sleds.  Every  fellow  was  anxious  to  draw  his  sweet- 
heart in  such  a  race,  and  to  win,  of  course.  You  can 
doit!" 

Something  in  Dade's  heart  made  him  rebel  against 
the  proposition ;  but  looking  at  Starbright,  and  feeling 
keenly  the  rankling  sting  of  his  recent  defeat,  he  de- 
termined to  offer  the  challenge.  So  he  walked  over 
to  the  big  freshman  and  proposed  the  sled-race. 

"If  Miss  Burrage  doesn't  object,"  said  Dick,  his 
fair  face  flushing.  Inza  did  not  object.  She  had  seen 
and  read  the  jealous,  look  of  Rosalind  Thornton,  under- 
stood its  meaning,  and  was  willing  that  the  race  should 
take  place,  believing  firmly  that  Starbright  could  win. 

"I  think  it  would  be  delightful,"  she  said.  "Only, 
if  I  should  fall  off  while  you  are  going  so  fast,  your 
skates  might  run  away  with  you,  Mr.  Starbright,  and 
take  you  into  the  woods." 

Merriwell  might  have  objected  if  he  had  been  con- 
sulted, but  this  was  outside  of  the  program,  and  he 
had  no  wish  to  interfere.  At  the  same  time,  he  did  not 
quite  like  the  look  in  Morgan's  eyes. 

The  race  was  to  be  across  to  the  opposite  point  of 
land  and  back;  and  as  there  were  to  be  no  official 
starters  and  timekeepers  or  red  tape,  the  arrangements 
were  quite  simple. 

The  sleds  were  brought  forward,  the  girls  seated 
themselves,  and  Starbright  and  his  enemy  were  away, 
each  dragging  his  fair  load  in  the  race  across  the  ice. 

Rosalind  now  and  then  gave  Inza  a  stab  out  of  her 
dark  eyes,  but  the  other  dark-eyed  girl  affected  not 


On  Lake  Whitney.  71 

to  notice  this  as  they  were  whirled  on  almost  side  by 
side. 

The  character  of  the  ice  made  a  divergence  from 
the  direct  line  necessary,  thus  increasing  the  distance 
to  be  skated. 

Dick,  who  was  not  "playing"  with  Dade  Morgan, 
even  if  Frank  Merriwell  had  been  "playing"  with  the 
skate  king,  reached  the  opposite  point  first,  and 
turned  to  retrace  his  way. 

Looking  back  as  he  carefully  swung  the  sled  round, 
he  saw  the  crowd  on  the  opposite  shore  waving  hand- 
kerchiefs and  caps,  and  heard  their  encouraging  cheers. 
Then  an  increased  desire  to  defeat  Dade  Morgan  by 
as  great  a  margin  as  possible  came  to  him. 

When  Morgan  turned  the  point,  more  than  twenty 
yards  behind  Dick,  his  face  was  white  and  set.  This 
second  defeat  meant  much  to  him.  He  had  not 
thought  when  he  entered  into  it  so  readily  that  its  re- 
sult might  mean  his  permanent  defeat  for  the  fresh- 
man leadership  by  his  rival,  but  now  his  heart  told 
him  this  was  the  peril  before  him. 

To  be  twice  defeated  in  one  afternoon  by  Starbright 
might  bring  about  the  enthronement  of  the  big  fresh- 
man as  the  undeniable  leader  of  the  freshmen  athletic 
forces. 

"I  will  beat  him !"  he  hissed.  "He  shall  not  defeat 
me  again!" 

"I'm  not  afraid !"  Rosalind  encouraged,  feeling  also 
the  sting  of  defeat.  "Go  as  fast  as  you  can !" 

Thus  urged,  Dade  swept  forward  on  the  home-stretch 


72  On  Lake  Whitney. 

with  all  his  might.  He  saw  that  an  advantage  could 
be  gained  by  pressing  nearer  the  dangerous  ice,  and 
to  get  that  advantage  he  swung  inward. 

"We're  going  so  fast  that  there  isn't  the  least  dan- 
ger!" he  told  himself.  "At  this  speed,  one  could  safely 
pass  over  the  thinnest  ice." 

Then  he  swerved  still  more. 

Suddenly  Starbright,  who,  taking  the  safe  course, 
and  was  losing  by  this  device  of  his  opponent,  heard 
the  cracking  of  ice  and  a  scream.  He  stopped,  turn- 
ing his  skates  sidewise,  and  almost  being  thrown  by 
the  sled,  which  ran  against  his  heels. 

Then  he  saw  a  sight  that  chilled  his  blood.  The 
ice  had  given  way  under  Rosalind's  sled,  and  she  had 
been  thrown  into  a  yawning  opening. 

She  was  struggling  wildly  in  the  icy  waters. 

The  momentum  had  carried  Dade  across  in  safety, 
and  the  dropping  of  Rosalind  from  the  sled  had  pitched 
him  headlong. 

Before  he  could  recover,  Starbright  had  skated  back 
past  him,  and,  without  hesitation,  seeing  that  nothing 
but  prompt  action  could  save  the  imperiled  girl,  had 
leaped  into  the  water  to  Rosalind's  assistance. 

The  lake  was  instantly  covered  with  skaters  hurry- 
ing to  the  scene  of  the  disaster,  among  the  foremost 
being  Merriwell  and  Hodge. 

Starbright  secured  a  grip  on  Rosalind's  jacket,  and 
though  the  icy  waters  seemed  to  strike  a  chill  to  his 
bones,  he  succeeded  in  holding  her  head  up,  and  swam 
slowly  with  her  to  the  edge  of  the  broken  ice. 


On  Lake  Whitney.  73 

A  half-dozen  fellows  threw  themselves  on  the  ice  in 
a  line,  with  Merriwell  in  the  lead,  crawled  to  the  dan- 
gerous and  crumbling  brink,  and  thus  drew  Starbright 
and  Rosalind  out  to  safety. 

Fortunately,  carriages  were  in  waiting,  and  into 
these  the  soaked  skater  and  the  equally  soaked  and 
half-drowned  girl  were  quickly  placed,  and  the  drivers 
lost  no  time  in  getting  their  charges  into  the  city. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry!"  said  Inza,  as  she  and  Frank 
returned  to  town.  "It  was  partly  my  fault  But  I 
didn't  think  Morgan  would  be  such  a  fool." 

"There  is  no  telling  what  a  fellow  will  do  when  he 
is  angry  or  jealous!" 

"Or  a  girl,  either,"  said  Inza.  "I  could  see  that 
Rosalind  was  both  when  she  saw  me  talking  with  Star- 
bright" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DONALD   PIKE'S   PLOT. 

There  was  no  more  disgusted  individual  in  New 
Haven  that  night  than  Donald  Pike.  All  his  sche- 
ming and  lies  seemed  to  have  come  to  naught.  Morgan 
had  not  only  done  nothing  to  Merriwell  or  Starbright, 
but  had  been  badly  worsted  in  every  way. 

He  met  Gene  Skelding,  and  they  talked  it  over,  but 
could  get  no  cheer  out  of  the  situation.  Roland  Pack- 
ard came  along,  in  an  equally  unamiable  mood,  and 
after  walking  round  a  while  together,  the  worthy  trio 
climbed  up  to  Chickering's  rooms. 

They  found  Rupert  and  some  of  his  friends  trying 
on  various  sorts  of  costumes  for  the  masked-ball  of  that 
night. 

This  was  another  of  MerriweH's  "entertainments," 
and  it  seemed  that  nearly  everybody  who  had  a  right 
to  go  was  going. 

"You  fellows  make  me  sick !"  said  Pike. 

"What  troubles  you  now,  Donald?"  asked  Chick- 
ering. 

"Lotht  on  the  watheth  thith  afternoon,  I've  no 
doubt!"  lisped  Veazie. 

"A  plague  on  the  races !"  Pike  growled. 

"Why  do  we  fellows  make  you  sick?"  queried  Julian 
Ives,  looking  at  himself  admiringly  in  the  long  mir- 


Donald  Pike's  Plot  75- 

ror.    Julian  had  arrayed  himself  in  a  glittering  imita- 
tion of  chain  armor,  and  was  going  to  the  ball  in  the 
character  of  a  Knight  of  the  Round  Table. 
"For  thinking  of  going  to  that  ball." 
"Oh,  I  wouldn't  mith  it  for  anything!" 
"You're  just  like  all  the  rest  of  the  fools,  Veazie !" 
Veazie  looked  immensely  fierce  for  a  moment;  then 
concluded  to  change  his  attitude,  and  mildly  inquired : 
"I  don't  underthand  you?" 

"You're  just  helping  Merriwell  out!  Can't  you  see 
it?  Now,  look  here!  Yale  wins  a  lot  of  victories — • 
beats  Carlisle,  Princeton,  Harvard,  and  everything 
else  that  comes  its  way.  The  claim  is  made  by  Merri- 
well's  friends  that  Yale's  glorious  victories  of  this 
season  were  made  possible  because  Merriwell  had  the 
running  of  things.  Merriwell  sits  back  and  smiles  and 
fans  himself  and  believes  that  he  is  'it' ! 

"Then  the  idea  is  conceived  that  it  would  be  the 
proper  thing  to  celebrate  the  victories  of  Yale.  Im- 
mediately Merriwell  is  put  in  charge  of  that,  as  if  the 
other  things  were  not  enough.  He  and  his  two  in- 
separable chums,  Hodge  and  Browning,  are  the  com- 
mittee of  arrangements.  They  are  called  the  'com- 
mittee of  three,'  and  they  proceed  to  run  things  to 
suit  themselves  and  favor  their  friends.  Again  they 
contrive  to  cover  Merriwell  with  glory.  Everything 
is  Merriwell.  Will  you  kindly  tell  me  if  we  are  cele- 
brating the  victories  of  Yale  or  the  victories  of  Merri- 
well? 

"And  here,  now,  I  find  you  fellows  arraying  your- 


76  Donald  Pike's  Plot. 

selves  in  chain  armor  and  other  togs,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  going  to  Merriwell's  mask-ball,  that  you  may 
help  it  out  with  your  presence  and  commendation.  Af- 
ter it's  over  you'll  come  home,  saying  what  a  tre- 
mendous success  it  was,  and  so  help  to  stick  another 
star  on  the  gilt  crown  of  Yale's  little  tin  god.  I'm 
sick  of  it!" 

Julian  Ives  drew  his  long  sword,  and,  holding  it  in 
hand,  stood  posed  before  the  mirror. 

"Too  late  to  help  it  now,"  he  said,  "even  if  all  you 
say  is  true,  and  I  guess  it  is.  The  way  the  fellows 
are  talking,  that  ball  is  going  to  be  a  howling  success, 
and  it  will  be  that  whether  I  stay  or  go.  So  I'm  go- 
ing!" 

There  was  small  likelihood  that  Julian  would  lose 
any  opportunity  to  put  himself  on  exhibition. 

"Well,  you're  a  set  of  fools !  That's  all  I've  got  to 
say!" 

Eton  Pike  was  too  uneasy  in  mind  to  remain  long 
in  Chickering's,  and  strolled  out  shortly,  leaving  Ro- 
land Packard  and  Gene  Skelding  still  there.  As  he 
went  away  a  thought  came  to  him. 

"Just  the  thing!"  he  said. 

"What  is?" 

Bertrand  Def  arge  clapped  him  on  the  back. 

Pike  started  and  bit  his  lip. 

"I  didn't  know  I  was  talking  to  myself!"  he  said. 
"It's  a  bad  habit,  and  I  shall  have  to  break  myself  of 
it.  Going  to  the  ball?" 


Donald  Pike's  Plot.  77 

"Certainly.  There  will  he  hosts  of  pretty  girls 
there,  and  I  shouldn't  want  to  miss  it." 

"Another  fool!"  Pike  growled,  as  he  and  Defarge 
separated.  "No  matter  what  Merriwell  plans,  not  only 
his  friends  but  his  enemies  turn  in  to  make  a  success 
of  it.  Is  it  dead  luck,  or  is  the  man  positively  a 
genius  ?" 

Hurrying  away  now  to  a  costumer,  Pike  hired  a 
cowboy-suit  as  nearly  like  that  worn  by  Bill  Higgins 
as  he  could  get,  and,  with  the  long  lasso  that  went  with 
it,  sneaked  back  to  his  rooms. 

"Higgins  has  been  drinking  a  little,"  was  his 
thought,  "though  the  fellow  has  been  awfully  mild 
for  a  plainsman.  He  wasn't  drinking  any  to-day,  to  be 
sure,  but  who's  to  say  that  he  didn't  fill  up  this  eve- 
ning? He's  made  himself  a  general  nuisance  here, 
whooping  things  up  for  Merriwell.  He's  Merriwell's 
protege  quite  as  much  as  Dick  Starbright  is.  If  I  can 
bring  him  down  and  roll  him  in  the  gutter  of  dis- 
grace, it  will  be  a  little  something." 

The  trick  he  contemplated  was  a  small  one,  worthy 
of  a  smaller  brain  than  Pike  was  usually  supposed  to 
possess. 

In  an  angle  of  the  wall  near  the  steps  which  he  had 
seen  Professor  Warburton  ascend  but  a  few  moments 
before,  Donald  Pike  crouched  in  his  cowboy  garb. 
Hiding  his  face  was  a  mask  which  he  had  also  ob- 
tained of  the  costumer. 

"If  I  can  just  rope  Warburton,  and  make  him  think 


78  Donald  Pike's  Plot. 

it  the  playful  work  of  Bill  Higgins,  I  couldn't  ask  any- 
thing better.  Warburton  is  a  fellow  who  would  hate 
a  creature  like  Higgins  by  instinct. 

Warburton  was,  indeed,  a  man  of  considerable  pom- 
posity and  self-importance,  whose  dignity  would  have 
been  outrageously  offended  by  such  a  thing  as  Pike 
contemplated. 

"If  I  can  do  it,  and  Warburton  makes  a  row  over 
it,  as  he  surely  will,  Higgins  will  be  in  such  bad  odor 
that  Merriwell  will  feel  precious  small.  If  the  thing 
gets  to  the  faculty,  or  into  the  courts,  so  much  the 
better.  I'd  like  to  have  the  newspapers  of  New  Haven 
make  a  few  roasting  comments  on  Merriwell's  dear 
friend  from  the  Western  ranches." 

Don  Pike  had  taken  roping-lessons  from  his  for- 
mer chum,  Buck  Badger,  and  could  throw  a  rope  rea- 
sonably well,  though  he  could  not  be  called  an  expert. 
He  felt  sure,  though,  that  if  Warburton  came  down 
the  steps  in  his  customary  leisurely  way  that  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  getting  the  noose  over  his 
head.  Even  if  it  only  struck  him,  that  would  answer, 
for  it  would  show  what  Higgins'  intentions  were  and 
serve  to  prove,  also,  that  Higgins  was  intoxicated. 

Pike  expected  Warburton  to  come  out  as  he  went 
in,  but  the  man  who  appeared  on  the  steps  five  minutes 
later  was  masked  and  wore  a  cowboy-suit  which 
looked,  in  the  rather  dim  light,  identically  like  the  one 
worn  by  Pike  himself. 

"That  costumer  lied  to  me!"  was  Pike's  thought. 


Donald  Pike's  Plot.  79 

"He  said  I  had  the  only  cowboy-suit  anything  like 
that  And  I  had  no  idea  that  Warburton  would  think 
of  attending  that  ball!  He's  masked  close  and  tight, 
and  does  not  intend  to  reveal  his  identity." 

If  Pike  had  been  given  time  for  thought,  he  might 
have  reached  radically  different  conclusions.  He  was 
not  given  time,  and  thinking  that  if  he  made  a  mis- 
take he  could  run  away  and  the  thing  would  not  be 
serious,  he  let  fly  with  his  rope  at  a  venture,  and 
caught  the  supposed  Warburton  round  the  neck,  giv- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  a  sharp  jerk  on  the  rope.  Then 
he  turned  to  run. 

The  roar  that  went  up  was  disillusioning;  but  not 
more  so  than  the  noose  that  now  dropped  over  Pike's 
own  neck. 

"What  in  time  d'ye  mean  by  that?"  came  in  the 
voice  of  Bill  Higgins  himself. 

Then  Higgins  began  to  draw  in  on  the  rope,  pulling 
the  startled  youth  toward  him.  Pike  tried  to  cast 
the  noose  off,  and,  failing  in  that,  sought  for  his  knife. 

All  the  while  Higgins  was  drawing  the  scared  stu- 
dent toward  him,  making  the  air  blue  with  his  ex- 
clamatory questions  and  objurations. 

"I'll  learn  ye  some  sense!"  Higgins  howled.  "I'll 
wring  yer  neck  fer  ye,  b'jings!  I'll  hang  ye  up  on 
one  o'  these  hyer  trees  fer  the  crows  to  eat !  That's 
what !  Why,  you  stepfather  to  a  hoss-thief " 

He  almost  fell  to  the  ground  as  the  rope  parted 
under  a  cutting  slash  from  Pike's  knife,  and,  having 


8o  Donald  Pike's  Plot. 

freed  himself,  Pike  darted  away,  with  Higgins  bel- 
lowing at  his  heels. 

Merriwell  and  Browning  came  down  the  steps,  hav- 
ing heard  the  outcry. 

"What's  up?"  Frank  demanded. 

Higgins  turned  back,  finding  Pike  too  light-footed 
for  him.  He  brought  with  him  the  rope  which  Pike 
had  dropped  in  his  flight. 

"Some  feller  slammed  this  hyer  round  my  neck  as 
I  come  down  the  steps!"  Higgins  declared.  "One  o' 
yer  dinged  student  friends,  I  reckon,  fer  no  real  cow- 
boy'd  do  another  cowboy  sich  a  measly  trick  as  that. 
Playin'  cowboy!  Well,  if  I  git  my  hands  onto  him, 
he  won't  monkey  no  more  with  yer  Uncle  William !" 


The  mask-ball  was  the  success  Don  Pike  had  known 
it  would  be.  Everybody  praised  it  and  its  excellent 
arrangements. 

Three  nights  later  Merriwell's  "entertainments" 
concluded  with  a  banquet  at  the  New  Haven  House, 
which  witnessed  a  crush. 

When  the  toast  came  round,  "To  Yale !"  Merriwell 
responded  in  his  usual  happy  way. 

"There  was  one  thing  I  should  have  been  pleased  to 
say  in  that  little  speech,"  he  remarked  to  a  number 
of  friends  later,  "but  it  wasn't  the  time  and  place." 

"What  was  that?"  asked  Browning. 

"It's  a  bit  of  news  which  I  must  convey  to  Star- 
bright  and  Morgan.  As  the  result  of  an  investigation, 


Donald  Pike's  Plot.  81 

I  have  discovered  who  threw  the  rocks  in  the  snowball 
battle  which  struck  those  two  fellows." 

Hodge  was  at  once  interested. 

"It  was  Jimmy  Seldon !  I  ran  the  thing  down,  and 
then  confronted  him,  and  he  confessed.  The  fellow 
has  fancied  from  the  start  that  he  is  an  athlete,  and 
that  he  ought  to  be  the  real  leader  of  the  freshmen. 
It  was  a  case  of  unappreciated  and  unobserved  gen- 
ius !  He  brooded  over  it.  Perhaps  it  turned  his  head. 
Anyway,  he  went  into  that  fight  determined  to  knock 
out  the  men  he  fancied  had  without  merit  been  chosen 
above  him.  When  the  opportunity  came,  he  threw  his 
prepared  snowballs." 

"You'll  report  it  ?"  Bruce  asked. 

"As  he  left  Yale  and  New  Haven  this  morning,  and 
isn't  coming  back,  it  isn't  worth  while !" 

"You  told  him  he  would  have  to  go  ?" 

"Well,  I  talked  with  him!  He  said  he  was  going, 
anyway,  for  he  has  failed  in  his  examinations.  Per- 
haps that  was  one  of  the  things  that  made  him  des- 
perate. He  is  better  out  of  Yale  than  in  it,  and  Yale 
is  better  without  him  than  with  him." 

"And  who  roped  Higgins?"  asked  Hodge. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  but  I  think  it  was  Don 
Pike.  He  is  likely  to  go  out  of  Yale,  too,  very  sud- 
denly, unless  he  mends  his  ways !" 

"A  few  other  villains  came  near  being  unmasked  in 
this  series  of  entertainments !"  droned  Browning.  "I'm 
keeping  my  weather-eye  on  Dade  Morgan." 


82  Donald  Pike's  Plot. 

"If  it  will  show  that  scoundrel  up  in  his  true  light, 

we'll  have  another  series!"  said  Hodge. 
Then  he  arose  and  proposed  this  toast : 
"To  the  confusion  of  the  few  enemies  of  Frank 

Merriwell!    To  the  success  of  his  legion  of  friends!" 


CHAPTER  IX. 
ROSALIND'S  REWARD. 

"I  should  like  to  know  what  you  mean  by  that,  Mr. 
Morgan  ?" 

Rosalind  Thornton  stood  before  Dade  Morgan,  her 
pretty  lips  trembling. 

He  had  made  an  evening  call  on  her  at  the  residence 
of  her  aunt,  and  was  now  on  the  point  of  taking  an 
early  leave.  They  were  standing  together  at  the  foot 
of  the  stairs,  under  the  red  globe  of  the  swinging  hall- 
lamp  near  the  outer  door. 

"You  don't  know  how  pretty  you  are  in  that  mood, 
Rose!  But  perhaps  you  do  know?  It  tempts  me  to 
steal  a  kiss." 

Rosalind  Thornton  was,  indeed,  a  pretty  girl,  and 
never  more  so  than  at  that  moment.  A  flash  of  hurt 
pride  made  her  winsomely  attractive — so  attractive 
that  Morgan  almost  relented  from  the  purpose  he  had 
formed  in  his  heart. 

She  drew  back  and  put  out  &.  little  hand. 

"You  have  no  right  to  say  such  things  to  me !" 

There  was  a  glow  of  fire  behind  the  unshed  tears. 
Morgan  laughed  in  his  usual  reckless,  nonchalant  way, 
and  hurt  Rose  by  saying  roughly : 

"Well,  I  didn't  call  to  take  you  out  riding  this 


84  Rosalind's  Reward 

afternoon,  as  I  promised  to  do — because  I  didn't  care 
to!" 

How  handsome  he  was  as  he  stood  there  looking 
at  her  with  eyes  as  dark  as  her  own.  She  was  as  fully 
alive  to  his  good  looks  as  he  was  to  hers.  There  was 
a  mysterious  something  in  his  strong,  athletic  form ;  in 
the  resolute  face,  smiling  mouth,  and  white,  even 
teeth.  Dade  Morgan  was  undeniably  a  handsome 
youth,  aside  from  a  trick  he  had  of  dropping  his  lids 
down  over  his  eyes,  to  shut  out  the  strange  glitter 
that  occasionally  took  the  beauty  out  of  them. 

It  was  the  magnetism  of  his  beauty  and  strength 
that  had  made  pretty  Rosalind  Thornton  willing  to 
hurt  the  honest  heart  of  big  Dick  Starbright — had 
made  her  willing  to  turn  from  him  and  accept  the 
pleasant  company  of  this  man,  who  was  his  confessed 
and  deadly  enemy. 

Rosalind's  affections  were  warm  and  womanly,  but 
they  were  not  of  an  enduring  type.  She  was,  besides, 
of  a  petulant,  jealous  disposition.  She  had  at  first 
accepted  Dade's  attentions  in  the  thought  that  this 
would  bring  Dick  Starbright  to  her  feet  as  a  willing 
and  devoted  subject.  Then  she  had  suddenly  found 
herself  captivated  by  Dade's  good  looks  and  winning 
smile,  and  wavered  in  her  affection  for  Starbright, 
telling  herself  that,  if  Dick  did  not  care  to  come  back, 
Morgan  would  be  as  acceptable,  perhaps  more  so. 

"I  suppose  I'm  a  fool,  Rose!" 

He  again  moved  toward  her.  Once  more  she  put  out 
a  detaining  hand. 


Rosalind's  Reward.  85 

"Yes,  I  think  you  are;  but  do  not  call  me  Rose, 
please!" 

"Rosalind!" 

"Nor  that!" 

He  laid  his  hand  on  his  heart  in  mock  gallantry. 

"Miss  Thornton,  any  fellow  is  a  fool  who  doesn't 
fall  in  love  with  you!" 

"Thanks !" 

The  laughing  smile  which  he  so  admired  and  which 
he  hoped  to  coax  back  to  her  eyes  did  not  make  its 
reappearance.  * 

"You  are  quite  angry?" 

"You  didn't  care  to  keep  your  word  this  afternoon !" 

Her  lips  again  trembled  as  she  thought  of  it — 
thought  of  the  pride  and  pleasure  with  which  she  had 
gowned  herself — the  triumphant  pride,  which  had  made 
her  desire  to  sweep  in  Dade's  carriage  in  grand  style 
past  her  former  lover,  Dick  Starbright,  whom  she 
was  still  anxious  to  draw  after  her,  as  a  conquering 
captor  draws  a  captive. 

Dade  laughed  and  dropped  the  lids  over  his  eyes. 

"Well,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  came  up  here  to-night  prin- 
cipally to  say  that  I  don't  care  to  go  out  driving  that 
way  any  more." 

The  girl's  cheeks  paled. 

"You're  an  awfully  pretty  girl,  Miss  Thornton " 

She  put  out  her  hand  again,  but  he  went  on. 

"I  don't  need  to  tell  you  that,  for  you  know  it.  But 
there's  no  use  of  keeping  this  thing  up,  you  see.  You 


86  Rosalind's  Reward. 

might  begin  to  think  that  I — I  care  for  you.  To  be 
frank,  I  don't.  I  suppose  you'll  say  that's  brutal." 

She  dropped  into  a  seat  on  the  stairs.  Dade  looked 
at  her  a  moment,  still  handsome  and  smiling. 

"I  hope  you  aren't  crying,"  he  said,  crossing  to  her 
side.  "When  you  seem  so  distressed,  you  know,  it 
makes  me — makes  me  almost  lo — care  for  you!" 

He  tried  to  take  her  hand.  She  dashed  it  away,  and 
turned  toward  him.  She  was  undeniably  crying  now. 
A  strange  thrill  came  to  his  heart.  He  began  to  think 
he  had  been  blunt  and  harsh.  His  pride  was  flattered. 
It  was  something  to  make  a  pretty  girl  cry — it  evi- 
denced the  fact  that  he  was  attractive  to  women.  And 
he  began  to  ask  himself  why  he  had  not  been  content  to 
go  on  and  make  her  believe  that  he  cared  for  her? 
His  vanity  was  lashing  him,  not  his  conscience. 

"I  don't  think  you  care  to  talk  to  me  any  longer," 
she  declared,  in  a  low,  icy  voice.  "At  least,  I  don't 
care  to  continue  the  conversation.  I  thought  you  some- 
thing which  you  are  not — a  gentleman!  You  were 
going,  I  believe?" 

"But  perhaps  I  don't  care  to  go.  Perhaps  I — per- 
haps I  prefer  to  stay.  If  we  can  go  on  with  the  under- 
standing that  what  we're  doing  is  just  for  fun,  just 
for  a  jolly  time  and  to  make  Dick  Starbright " 

"You  were  going,  I  believe!"  she  icily  repeated. 

Her  eyes  were  very  bright  now,  and,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  red  spot  glowing  in  each  cheek,  her  face 
was  white.  The  tears  had  dried. 

A  step  was  heard  on  the  outer  step,  making  Dade 


Rosalind's  Reward.  87 

start  He  stood  in  a  listening  attitude  and  heard  foot- 
steps departing.  Some  one  had  been  on  the  piazza, 
and  was  now  going  away.  Morgan  stood  a  moment 
in  silence,  then  opened  the  door  and  looked  out.  The 
electric  light  was  more  than  half  a  block  distant,  and 
the  light  in  front  of  the  house  was  not  good.  Yet  he 
saw  a  tall  form  moving  down  the  street. 

"If  I  didn't  know  that  he  couldn't  be  guilty  of  such 
a  thing,  I  should  say  that  our  good  friend  Starbright 
had  followed  me  here  this  evening  and  had  been  eaves- 
dropping," he  said,  as  he  withdrew  his  head  and 
shoulders  from  the  doorway  and  closed  the  door. 

"I  don't  want  to  leave  until  we  have  settled  this 
matter!"  he  continued,  still  feeling  that  perhaps  he  had 
acted  too  hastily,  and  that  Rosalind  was  altogether  too 
pretty  and  winsome  a  girl  to  be  thrown  over  in  that 
manner,  even  if  he  did  not  care  for  her. 

"It  is  settled,  I  think!"  she  declared;  then  turned 
from  him  and  began  to  mount  the  stairs. 

He  looked  after  her,  flushed  and  angry.  He  had 
come  to  the  house  with  the  deliberate  intention  of  tell- 
ing her  that  he  did  not  care  to  take  her  driving  any 
more,  or  to  continue  their  further  intimate  acquaint- 
ance, and  had  half-broken  down  in  it  because  of  her 
beauty  and  evident  distress.  Dade  Morgan  loved  him- 
self better  than  anything  else  in  the  world,  and  his  self- 
pride  had  been  hurt.  Some  way  he  did  not  feel  as 
care-free  about  the  matter  as  he  had  fancied  he  would. 
He  had  never  cared  for  Rosalind  Thornton,  and  had 
used  her  merely  as  a  weapon  with  which  to  strike 


88  Rosalind's  Reward. 

Starbright,  but  this  was  somewhat  like  the  weapon 
striking  back  at  him  when  he  sought  to  discard  it. 

Yet  he  did  not  try  to  speak  to  her  again,  though  a 
strange  and  fiery  light  came  into  his  eyes,  which, 
through  force  of  habit,  he  besought  to  conceal.  Then 
he  put  on  his  hat,  opened  the  door  without  saying 
"Good  night!"  and  was  soon  trailing  down  the  street 
after  the  person  he  had  fancied  was  Dick  Starbright. 

"Well,  she's  off  my  hands !"  he  reflected,  as  he  hur- 
ried on.  "I  guess  it's  better  that  way,  though  she  is 
deucedly  handsome,  and  I  might  come  to  like  her  in 
time,  if  I  could  ever  like  anybody!  But  that  finishes 
it,  unless  I  really  want  to  go  back.  I  think  I  can  do 
that,  if  I  care  to  try  the  trick.  Likely  I  sha'n't  care  to 
try  it.  I  wonder  if  that  was  Starbright?  It  would 
be  a  joke  if  she's  been  playing  double,  and  Starbright 
has  been  calling  here  all  the  time.  But,  no,  he 
wouldn't  do  that.  Starbright  isn't  a  chump,  whatever 
else  he  is !" 

He  failed  to  see  Starbright  or  any  one  resembling 
him. 

"Taken  an  electric  for  down-town,  I  suppose!" 

Then  his  thoughts  went  back  to  Rosalind. 

"  'Umph!  Women  cry  easily;  but  crying  sometimes 
makes  them  pretty!" 

Hurt,  angered,  humiliated,  Rosalind  had  rushed  into 
her  room,  thrown  herself  on  her  bed,  and  was  crying 
as  if  her  foolish  little  heart  were  about  to  break. 


CHAPTER  X. 

HAZERS   IN   MERRY   MOOD. 

The  youth  who  had  stood  for  a  moment  on  the  steps 
of  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Virgil  Throckmorton  had 
indeed  been  Dick  Starbright.  He  had  chanced  to  pass 
along  the  street,  and  a  sudden  impulse  had  taken  him 
to  the  door.  His  friend,  Bert  Dashleigh,  had  told 
him  that  Rosalind  was  soon  to  leave  New  Haven.  A 
desire  to  see  her  and  have  a  few  words  with  her  be- 
fore she  went  away  sent  him  up  the  steps,  where  he 
became  an  unwilling  listener  to  some  of  the  words 
spoken  by  her  and  Morgan,  for  Morgan  had  spoken 
louder  than  he  knew. 

"I  guess  I've  made  a  mistake!"  he  had  grumbled  to 
himself,  his  heart  flaming  against  the  conduct  of  the 
youth  whose  words  he  had  overheard;  and  he  had 
beaten  a  quick  retreat  to  the  street,  mentally  raging 
against  Morgan,  and  assuring  himself  that  he  had 
been  an  idiot  for  yielding  to  the  temptation  to  speak 
again  to  Rosalind. 

His  thought,  as  he  went  down  the  street  toward  the 
car-line,  was  to  wait  for  Morgan  and  demand  an  ex- 
plantation;  but  he  did  not  do  this,  and,  flinging  himself 
into  the  first  electric  that  came  along,  he  rode  back  to 
the  campus.  The  recent  snow  had  passed  away  in  a 


90  Hazers  in  Merry  Mood. 

rain-storm,  which  had  been  followed  by  a  return  of 
sharp,  frosty  weather. 

He  found  the  famous  quadrangle  filled  with  college 
men,  who  seemed  to  be  having  a  high  old  time  about 
something.  Dashleigh  caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"What's  up?"  Dick  demanded. 

"I  don't  know.  They're  roping  in  the  freshmen. 
Perhaps  we'd  better  make  ourselves  scarce." 

But  Starbright  had  already  been  sighted. 

"Oh,  Starbright!  Come  bow  to  the  golden  image!" 
was  shouted  from  the  crowd. 

Dashleigh  started  to  run,  but  he  found  himself  op- 
posed by  Bingham  and  Jack  Ready,  who  cleverly 
tripped  him  as  he  put  his  nimble  legs  in  motion. 

"Refuse  me!"  said  Ready,  thrusting  out  his  right 
hand  in  a  wiggling  way  as  he  planted  himself  before 
Starbright.  "Will  you  go  of  your  own  'cord,  or  shall 
we  cord  you  ?" 

He  had  an  arm  linked  through  one  of  Dashleigh's, 
while  Bingham  was  holding  Dashleigh  up  on  the  other 
side. 

"What's  up?"  Dick  calmly  asked. 

"We  are!     It  isn't  late,  you  see!" 

He  saw  other  sophomores  gathering  round  him,  but 
made  no  attempt  to  run.  Down  near  the  fence  was 
a  howling  mob  of  students,  mostly  sophomores  and 
freshmen,  who  seemed  to  be  dancing  a  war-dance 
about  a  captive. 

"There  was  a  fellow  in  the  Scripture "  Ready 

began. 


Hazers  in  Merry  Mood.  91 

"Oh,  there  was !"  Dick  interrupted. 

"No  impertinence,  freshman !"  cried  Ready,  blowing 
out  his  red  cheeks.  "There  was  a  fellow  in  Scripture 
who  was  commanded  to  bow  before  the  image  of 
Somebody-or-other,  and  he  refused,  and  awful  things 
happened  to  him!" 

"Yes;  I  remember  that  he  came  out  all  right  in  the 
end!" 

"Oh,  did  he?  I'll  have  to  quit  quoting  Scripture,  or 
go  to  studying  it.  But  you'll  not  come  out  all  right  in 
the  end." 

Dashleigh  tripped  Bingham  and  tried  to  break  away. 

"Oh,  gentle  friend,  why  dost  thou  try  to  flee?" 
Ready  purred,  holding  onto  Bert  with  iron  grip. 
"Dost  thou  not  see  that  the  enemy  surrounds  thee?" 

"What's  up?"  Starbright  again  asked. 

"Morgan!  Morgan!"  came  as  if  in  answer;  and  it 
seemed  strange  to  Starbright,  too,  for  he  was  thinking 
more  of  Morgan  at  the  moment  than  he  was  of  what 
Ready  was  saying,  or  of  the  antics  of  the  rollicking 
sophomores  near  the  fence. 

For  the  sophomores,  he  cared  little  enough,  having 
long  ago  made  up  his  mind  that  the  only  way  to  deal 
with  them  was  to  let  them  have  their  way,  if  it  was  not 
too  rough,  and  so  get  rid  of  them  in  the  shortest  order. 

Morgan,  following  Starbright  toward  the  campus, 
had  been  suddenly  surrounded  by  a  lot  of  sophomores 
who  seemed  to  be  lying  in  wait  near  the  entrance  to 
capture  straggling  freshmen.  Morgan  was  in  an  ugly 


92  Hazers  in  Merry  Mood. 

mood,  because  of  the  events  of  the  evening;  and,  in- 
stead of  gracefully  submitting,  he  began  to  fight,  using 
his  fists  freely.  In  consequence  of  this  he  was  roughly 
thrown  down,  tied  snug  and  tight  with  a  stout  cord, 
and  then  carried  bodily  toward  the  rioting  mob  near 
the  fence,  who  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  just  such  ob- 
streperous victims. 

"I  guess  I'll  go  along  and  see  the  fun !"  said  Star- 
bright  good-humoredly,  though  his  heart  was  panting 
against  Dade  Morgan.  Then  to  himself,  as  he  moved 
en  with  Dashleigh  and  another  freshman  who  had 
been  caught  in  the  sophomore  net,  he  said: 

"I'll  see  Morgan  after  this  thing  is  over,  whatever  it 
may  be.  I'll  see  him,  ask  him  some  questions,  and 
get  the  answers,  too!" 

The  howling  mob  gave  way,  and  Starbright  saw  a 
large  picture  of  the  rotund  proprietor  of  "Billie's,"  the 
freshman  inn.  It  was  a  mere  daub  on  wood,  displaying 
the  round  stomach  and  the  shining,  bald  head  of  the 
genial  proprietor.  It  had  been  painted  by  some  humor- 
ous student  and  placed  in  front  of  "Billie's"  one  night 
in  lieu  of  a  sign-board  which  some  other  student 
or  students  had  stolen.  The  proprietor,  knowing 
the  ways  of  college  youths,  had  smiled  his  benediction 
on  it  and  set  it  up  over  the  show-case  between  his  two 
front  parlor  windows. 

And  now  this  gem  of  art  had  been  surreptitiously 
extracted  from  the  tavern,  and  all  the  freshmen  caught 
in  the  sophomore  drag-net  that  jubilant,  crisp  evening 


Hazers  in  Merry  Mood.  93 

were  being  made  to  go  down  on  their  knees  before  it 
and  affectionately  kiss  the  bald  head. 

Morgan  was  hurt  and  indignant.  He  somehow 
fancied  that,  because  he  was  conspicuous  as  a  leader 
of  the  freshmen  and  had  done  many  things  to  draw 
about  him  a  circle  of  adherents,  he  should  not  be 
forced  to  do  so  humiliating  a  thing  as  to  kneel  on 
the  frosty  sand  and  plant  an  unctuous  kiss  on  the 
pictured  bald  head. 

"Oh,  you  didn't  half-salute  Billie!"  Bingham  de- 
clared, giving  Morgan  a  push  that  almost  drove  his 
nose  through  the  wood  on  which  the  portrait  was 
drawn.  "If  you  should  plant  a  kiss  like  that  on  the 
ruby  lips  of  your  best  girl  she  would  have  odious 
opinions  of  you." 

"Oh,  let  up!"  Morgan  growled.  "This  is  too  silly 
for  anything!" 

"Except  freshmen!"  said  Bingham.  "Salute  the 
bald  spot  of  the  human  billiard-cue  in  a  respectful 
manner,  or " 

Two  or  three  sophomores  caught  Morgan  by  the 
neck  and  shoulders  and  forced  his  lips  to  the  picture, 
and  held  him  there,  in  spite  of  his  protestations,  while 
he  kissed  Billie's  bald  head  over  and  over  again. 
When  released  he  was  mad  clean  through. 

Starbright  was  pushed  up  to  the  daub,  murmuring, 
though  he  was  known  never  to  drink : 

"Oh,  thou  human  punch-bowl,  thou  concocter  of 
that  nectar  of  the  gods!  How  I  love  thee!" 


94  Hazers  in  Merry  Mood. 

He  appeared  to  want  to  take  the  picture  to  his  bosom 
in  a  rapturous  embrace,  but  was  dragged  back. 

"Thou  varlet!"  cried  Ready,  pleased  with  Star- 
bright's  apparent  nonchalance,  which  was  in  such 
marked  contrast  to  Morgan's  fuming  rage.  "Avaunt, 
there!  A  dog  is  not  privileged  to  embrace  a  king!" 

"The  dog  was  merely  trying  to  bite  him !"  chattered 
Bingham. 

"Your  pardon !"  said  Starbright.  "The  dog  mistook 
his  baldness  for  a  link  of  sausage!" 

"And  thought  he  recognized  a  kinship!"  laughed 
Greg  Carker. 

At  which  sally  from  the  solemn  and  philosophical 
Carker  the  boisterous  sophomores  cackled  with  glee. 

The  twang  of  a  mandolin  was  heard,  as  Bert  Dash- 
leigh  was  made  to  waddle  forward  on  all  fours  and 
kiss  the  shiny  pate  of  the  pictured  host.  It  was  Dash- 
leigh's  own  mandolin,  produced  by  a  student  who  had 
hastily  invaded  Dashleigh's  room  for  the  purpose. 

"How  did  you  get  in?"  Bert  coolly  asked,  stopping 
in  the  midst  of  his  osculatory  adorations. 

"Fell  through  the  transom,"  said  the  student.  "Why 
the  dickens  do  you  always  keep  your  door  locked? 
That  transom  is  so  contracted  that  I  sprained  my  wish- 
bone." 

"Good  thing  if  you  had  sprained  your  neck!"  Bert 
flung  back;  and  was  then  dragged  away,  lest  in  his 
fervent  kissing  he  should  lick  all  the  paint  off  the  wood. 

Two  stools  were  produced  from  some  invisible 
source,  and,  while  other  freshmen  were  compelled  to 


Hazers  in  Merry  Mood.  95 

bow  before  and  kiss  the  picture,  Dashleigh  and  Star- 
bright  were  made  to  sit  on  the  stools  and  sing : 

"Oh,  who  will  smoke  my  meerschaum  pipe,  meerschaum  pipe? 
Oh,  who  will  smoke  my  meerschaum  pipe,  meerschaum  pipe? 
Oh,  who  will  smoke  my  meerschaum  pipe,  when  I  am  far  away? 

"Oh,  who  will  go  to  see  my  girl,  see  my  girl? 
Oh,  who  will  go  to  see  my  girl,  see  my  girl? 
Oh,  who  will  go  to  see  my  girl,  when  I  am  far  away? 

"Oh,  who  will  kiss  her  ruby  lips,  ruby  lips? 
Oh,  who  will  kiss  her  ruby  lips,  ruby  lips? 
Oh,  who  will  kiss  her  ruby  lips,  when  I  am  far  away? 

"Oh,  who  will  squeeze  her  snow-white  hand,  snow-white  hand? 
Oh,  who  will  squeeze  her  snow-white  hand,  snow-white  hand? 
Oh,   who  will   squeeze  her   snow-white  hand,  when   I  am   far 
away  ?" 

It  was  one  of  those  popular  college  songs  which  can 
run  on  forever,  like  Tennyson's  brook,  and  never  get 
weary;  and  while  Dashleigh  thumped  away  on  the 
mandolin  and  he  and  Dick  bawled  out  every  variation 
and  every  verse  they  had  ever  heard  of  or  could  think 
of,  the  captured  freshmen  were,  one  by  one,  forced 
to  crawl  reluctantly  forward  and  honor  the  proprietor 
of  "Billie's." 

It  was  all  very  funny — to  the  sophomores,  and  to 
students  who,  like  Dick  and  Bert,  could  take  the  thing 
coolly  and  good-humoredly.  To  others  it  was  gall 
and  wormwood.  Morgan  was  brought  back  three 
times  and  made  to  moisten  the  top  of  "Billie's"  head 
with  his  "roseate  spoon-bill,"  as  Jack  Ready  facetiously 


96  Hazers  in  Merry  Mood. 

termed  Dade's  lips,  and  Dade  grew  madder  and  mad- 
der, until  he  was  in  a  fighting-mood. 

When  released  at  last  he  stumbled  blindly  away, 
vowing  vengeance  on  the  whole  tribe  of  Yale  sopho- 
mores. As  he  pitched  on  in  the  semigloom,  almost  too 
blind  to  see  which  way  he  was  going,  he  heard  his 
name  called,  and,  turning  about,  beheld  what  he  took 
to  be  one  of  the  tormenting  sophomores. 

"If  you  follow  me  any  farther,  I'll  spread  your  nose 
all  over  your  face!"  he  threatened. 

Whereupon  the  supposed  sophomore  drew  nearer, 
laughing  in  a  silent,  mirthless  way. 

"My  dear  Dade,  you  are  losing  your  customary 
calm !"  came  the  warning  in  a  familiar  voice. 

The  supposed  sophomore  was  Hector  King. 


CHAPTER  XL 

SETTLING     A     SCORE. 

Hector  King's  disguise  was  so  very  superficial  that 
Dade  wondered  at  the  daring  of  the  man.  Yet  it  was 
more  effective  than  an  elaborate  disguise  would  have 
been.  His  face  and  hands  were  darkened,  his  hair 
cut  short,  and  his  dress  was  that  of  one  of  the  numer- 
ous "sweeps"  who  take  care  of  the  rooms  of  the  Yale 
students.  The  disguise  had  served  so  well  that  King 
had  been  able  to  hover  on  the  outskirts  of  the  sopho- 
more mob  without  detection  or  question. 

The  last  time  Dade  Morgan  had  seen  the  man 
whom  he  had  come  to  call  Hector  King,  the  latter 
was  in  the  disguise  of  a  Hindu  juggler.  The  pre- 
tended juggler  had  been  unmasked  by  Frank  Merri- 
well,  to  whom  he  stood  revealed  as  Brandon  Drood, 
alias  Dion  Santenel,  the  hypnotist,  the  deadly  enemy 
of  Frank  and  his  father,  whose  ruin  and  disgrace  he 
sought  with  a  bitterness  and  tenacity  almost  beyond 
comprehension.  Dade  had  dragged  him  from  the 
room  in  which  Merriwell  had  hypnotized  him,  and 
forced  from  him  an  important  confession — Frank 
having  overthrown  him  by  his  own  methods,  in  his 
chosen  field,  and  on  his  own  battle-ground — had 
dragged  him  away,  and  thus  prevented  Frank  from 


98  Settling  a  Score. 

making  him  a  prisoner  and  taking  steps  for  his  punish- 
ment. 

"You  are  losing  your  customary  calm!"  Santenel 
cynically  repeated. 

"And  it  seems  to  me  you  are  losing  your  customary 
caution !" 

"I  can  look  out  for  myself  I"  Santenel  answered 
somewhat  tartly.  "You  lost  your  temper  and  made  an 
ass  of  yourself.  How  long  do  you  suppose  you  can 
hold  your  influence  in  Yale  by  acting  in  that  way  ?  A 
man  who  would  be  a  master  of  others  must  learn  first 
to  master  himself.  That  is  the  very  primer  of  the 
whole  thing — the  first  lesson." 

"Oh,  well!"  Dade  snarled.  "That  stuff  made  me 
sick!" 

He  was  about  to  say  more,  but  ceased  when  he  ob- 
served that  they  were  being  followed. 

"That's  a  student,  sure!  Yes,  and  it's  Dick  Star- 
bright!" 

"Let's  move  on!"  said  Santenel.  "I  don't  care  to 
make  intimate  acquaintances  among  your  student 
friends." 

He  emphasized  the  word  "friends"  in  a  way  that 
made  Dade  writhe,  for  he  knew  how  Dade  hated  the 
big  freshman.  Though  they  walked  on,  it  was  soon 
apparent  that  Starbright  was  following  them.  They 
did  not  like  the  lighted  streets,  so  they  turned  into  the 
green,  but  Starbright  sauntered  after  them. 

"I'm  going  to  halt  and   see  what  the  scoundrel 


Settling  a  Score.  99 

means  by  that,"  Dade  declared,  stopping.  Santenel 
did  not  object,  but  walked  on. 

Dade  waited  impatiently  and  angrily  by  the  side  of 
the  path. 

"You've  been  following  me !"  he  cried  curtly,  when 
Starbright  came  up. 

"Yes,"  said  Dick;  "I've  a  settlement  to  make  with 
you." 

Dade  coaxed  the  smile  to  his  face. 

"I'm  not  a  bone,  to  be  followed  and  sniffed  at  by 
a  dog  like  you!" 

Starbright  angrily  reddened. 

"You've  been  following  me  all  evening!"  Dade 
continued. 

"That's  a  lie." 

Dade  clenched  his  fist. 

"You  followed  me  to  Mrs.  Throckmorton's  this 
evening.  You  stood  on  the  steps,  eavesdropping,  try- 
ing to  hear  what  I  might  say.  You're  a  sneaking 
puppy!" 

He  was  white  with  wrath,  and  found  it  impossible 
to  keep  that  famous  smile  on  his  face. 

"Go  on!"  said  Dick  coldly.  "The  more  you  say, 
the  more  occasion  I  shall  find  for  thumping  you  to 
my  complete  satisfaction  when  I  begin  on  you.  I  did 
not  follow  you  to  Mrs.  Throckmorton's.  I  went  there 
to  make  a  call  on  Miss  Thornton,  hearing  that  she  is 
to  leave  the  city  soon.  I  was  a  fool  for  g6ing,  I'll 
admit.  When  I  mounted  the  steps " 

"Crept  up  like  a  sneaking  dog,  you  mean!"  inter- 


ioo  Settling  a  Score. 

rupted  Dade,  holding  himself  in  readiness  for  the  blow 
which  he  expected. 

"When  I  mounted  the  steps  I  overheard  you  talking 
to  Miss  Thornton,  for  you  were  speaking  so  loud  that 
I  couldn't  help  hearing.  You  know  what  you  said  to 
her.  I  caught  only  a  few  words,  but  enough  to  under- 
stand the  whole  thing.  I  have  seen  it  all  along,  but 
have  had  no  proof  of  it  till  now.  You  went  with  her 
simply  because  you  thought  it  would  hurt  me  r  nd  make 
me  jealous.  You  thought  me  weak  enough  to  throw 
myself  into  the  saloons  and  make  a  fool  of  myself 
generally.  You  have  seen  that  I  did  nothing  of  the 
kind,  and  now,  having  faile  1  in  your  object,  you  throw 
her  over  with  no  feeling  whatever,  showing  you  to  be 
a  thoroughbred  cad!" 

Dade  was  trembling,  but  fear  of  the  big  freshman's 
fist  made  him  cautious.  In  spite  of  his  bluster  and 
sharp  words  he  had  learned  to  respect  that  fist  and 
the  man  behind  it. 

"Is  that  all  ?"  he  sneered. 

"No.  It  won't  be  enough  until  I  have  taught  you 
to  respect  women.  I  regret  that  I  have  been  com- 
pelled to  mention  Miss  Thornton  in  this  matter.  She 
is  a  lady,  and  has  had  the  misfortune  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  a  conscienceless  villain  and  to  be  made 
his  tool.  I  shouldn't  have  mentioned  her  name,  but 
I  want  you  to  understand  just  what  I  mean." 

He  slipped  up  his  sleeves. 

"There  is  no  other  way  to  redress  such  things,  and, 
as  Miss  Thornton  doesn't  happen  to  have  a  brother  to 


Settling  a  Score.  101 

do  this  for  her,  I  shall  take  the  pleasure.  Put  up  your 
hands,  you  scoundrel,  or  I'll  knock  you  down!" 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  tone  of  Dick  Star- 
bright's  voice.  Morgan  glanced  round.  The  place 
was  isolated  and  poorly  lighted,  and  Dion  Santenel  had 
disappeared. 

"Defend  yourself !"  Dick  hissed. 

Dade  backed  away,  but  he  put  up  his  hands,  for 
he  saw  that  Starbright  meant  to  strike  him. 

"Why,  you  puppy!"  he  snarled. 

The  freshman's  big  fist  caught  him  on  the  cheek  and 
almost  lifted  him  from  his  feet. 

The  blow  drove  away  every  atom  of  fear  from  the 
heart  of  Morgan  and  filled  him  with  inconceivable 
wrath.  Gathering  himself,  he  rushed  at  Starbright 
with  the  ferocity  of  a  mad  dog.  But  again  that  huge 
fist  met  him  and  knocked  him  backward. 

"Come  again!"  said  Starbright,  as  coolly  as  if  he 
were  merely  sparring  in  the  gymnasium.  "I  want  to 
hammer  that  villainous  smile  off  your  face.  Your 
friends  won't  think  you  so  handsome  in  the  morning!" 

Morgan  tried  to  calm  his  raging  heart.  He  saw 
that  if  he  did  not  he  would  be  knocked  out  in  short 
order.  So,  instead  of  making  another  mad  rush,  he 
called  to  his  aid  all  his  undoubted  skill,  and  began  to 
circle  slowly  about  Starbright,  looking  warily  for  an 
opening. 

Twice  Starbright  lunged  at  him,  and  twice  Morgan 
dodged  out  of  the  way.  Then,  with  a  quick  leap,  Mor- 
gan sprang  in  and  landed  a  resounding  blow. 


102  Settling  a  Score. 

Dick,  finding  an  opening,  then  drove  his  terrible 
right  with  such  weight  that  Morgan  went  down  on 
the  grass  with  stunning  force. 

Thud!  A  club  in  the  hands  of  Dion  Santenel  fell 
on  Starbright's  head,  blinding  and  stunning  him.  The 
club  was  lifted  again  and  hung  poised  in  the  air. 

Then  there  was  a  swish  of  a  rope,  which  was  pre- 
ceded by  light,  springy  footsteps,  and  the  club,  while 
poised  in  mid-air,  was  plucked  from  the  hand  of  San- 
tenel. 

"No,  ye  don't!"  came  in  the  roaring  voice  of  Bill 
Higgins,  the  cowboy.  "Fair  play's  a  jewel,  and  I'm 
the  jeweler  that  sees  't  gits  a  proper  settin',  b'jing!" 

Santenel  knew  that  voice  only  too  well.  He  had 
met  Higgins  while  posing  as  the  Hindu  juggler,  and 
knew  that  Higgins  was  the  friend  of  Merriwell.  Vi- 
sions of  a  capture  and  unpleasant  interview  with 
Frank,  and  other  disagreeable  consequences,  flashed 
through  his  mind.  The  club  had  been  torn  from  his 
hand,  and  he  was  weaponless.  So,  without  stopping 
to  further  take  the  part  of  Dade  Morgan,  who  was 
struggling  to  his  feet,  Santenel  hurried  off  and  disap- 
peared behind  the  trees,  Higgins  looking  after  him,  as 
if  he  did  not  know  whether  to  follow  and  rope  him  or 
let  him  get  away. 

Dade  rose  to  his  feet,  his  face  distorted  with  anger, 
pain,  and  baffled  hate.  He  dared  not  again  face  the  fist 
of  Dick  Starbright. 

"I  don't  care  to  fight  you  further,  when  you've 


Settling  a  Score.  103 

got  help!"  he  sneered,  his  words  trembling  and  his 
whole  form  shaking.  "But  I'll  settle  with  you  yet, 
Starbright!" 

"Any  time!"  said  Dick,  pulling  down  his  sleeves. 
"I've  more  where  that  came  from !" 

Though  his  head  was  throbbing  and  he  felt  a  trickle 
of  blood  on  his  face,  caused  by  the  blow  of  the  club,  he 
stood  erect  again,  firmly  facing  Dade  Morgan. 

"I'll  settle  with  you  for  this!"  Morgan  slowly  re- 
peated, as  if  his  brain  were  in  a  whirl  and  his  mind 
still  incoherent.  Then  he  flung  the  cowboy  a  look  of 
hate  and  disdain,  and  walked  away  in  the  direction 
taken  by  Santenel. 


"Who  was  that  there  feller?  The  one  that  hit  ye 
with  the  club?"  asked  Higgins,  staring  in  the  direction 
Dade  was  taking.  "I  'low  I  was  a  fool  to  let  him  go." 

It  was  a  question  that  Dick  could  not  answer. 

"There  was  only  one  thing  I  clearly  understood 
about  that  business,  and  that  was  that  you  ran  up 
against  a  bigger  man  than  you  could  handle!"  said 
Santenel,  when  they  reached  Morgan's  room. 

"Oh,  don't  say  anything  more  about  it!" 

Santenel  took  a  seat  by  the  fire,  while  Dade  ap- 
plied liberal  douches  of  hot  water  to  his  battered  head. 

"But  I  want  to  know  about  it.  I  stood  behind  one 
of  those  trees  while  you  were  engaged  with  that  big 
two-fisted  cyclone,  and  I  had  my  curiosity  aroused. 
My  advice  to  you  is  to  keep  away  from  him.  He's 


104  Settling  a  Score. 

too  much  for  you.  What  did  he  tackle  you  about  ?  I 
couldn't  just  make  out!" 

Dade  dropped  the  hot  towel  he  had  been  holding 
to  his  face,  walked  to  a  drawer,  drew  out  a  photograph 
and  threw  it  into  Santenel's  lap. 

"That!" 

"Quarreling  about  this  girl?" 

"Yes,  if  you  must  know.  I  didn't  care  anything 
for  her — not  a  thing !  and  I  only  went  with  her  to  spite 
him  and  make  him  jealous.  I  was  fool  enough  to  think 
it  might  drive  him  to  drink.  Either  he  didn't  care  for 
her  as  much  as  I  supposed,  or  that  story  of  his  all- 
absorbing  appetite  for  liquor  is  a  fairy-tale.  I  found 
out  that  I  was  wasting  my  time,  and  I  threw  her  over. 
He  heard  about  it,  and  he — well,  you  saw  what  he 
did!" 

His  face  crimsoned;  not  with  shame  for  his  treat- 
ment of  Rosalind  Thornton,  but  because  he  had  been 
worsted  so  completely  by  Starbright,  and  the  memory 
of  it  stung  him  to  the  quick. 

"A  handsome  girl!"  commented  Santenel.  "Well, 
you  failed!" 

He  seemed  in  a  lenient  mood,  and  tossed  the  photo- 
graph back.  He  remembered  that  he,  too,  had  met 
with  a  bitter  failure  some  days  before,  when  he  thought 
he  had  Frank  Merriwell  completely  under  his  hypnotic 
control,  only  to  discover,  when  too  late  and  fter  he 
himself  had  been  hypnotized  by  Frank,  that  Merriwell 
had  been  playing  with  him  all  along  for  the  purpose 
of  getting  him  in  his  power  and  unmasking  him.  The 


Settling  a  Score.  105 

recollection  was  quite  as  irritating  as  that  which  so 
stung  Dade  Morgan. 

Dade  gave  the  photograph  a  savage  kick,  which 
landed  it  in  the  fire.  Santenel  watched  it  leap  into 
flame  and  crisp  and  curl  to  ashes.  A  cynical  smile 
sat  on  his  cold  lips,  and  the  leaping  flame  seemed  to 
light  up  kindred  fires  in  the  depth  of  his  black  eyes. 
They  were  peculiar  eyes;  and,  as  he  sat  staring  into 
the  grate,  the  pupils  appeared  to  contract  and  expand 
somewhat  like  those  of  a  cat. 

"You  are  wondering  why  I  am  here  again?"  he 
said,  at  length,  to  Dade,  who  had  gone  back  to  his 
hot  towels.  Dade  affected  a  show  of  indifference. 

"I  knew  you  would  tell  me  after  a  while — when  you 
got  ready!" 

"I'm  back  here  because  I  never  give  up.  I  never 
yet  was  defeated  at  anything  which  I  seriously  under- 
took, and  I  never  will  be.  You  know  my  purpose?" 

He  spoke  in  a  low,  droning  tone,  seeming  to  direct 
his  words  to  the  dim  face  of  a  girl  which  he  fancied  he 
could  still  see  in  the  ashes  of  the  photograph — spoke 
in  so  low  a  monotone  that,  though  the  words  were 
clearly  heard  by  Dade,  they  could  not  have  been  over- 
heard by  any  one  with  less  alert  ears  or  beyond  the 
room. 

"You  have  told  that  to  me  scores  of  times !" 

"You're  no  more  likely  to  forget  it  than  I  am. 
But  you  thought  I  failed  and  abandoned  the  field.  You 
were  mistaken.  You  don't  know  me  yet  as  you  ought. 
I  can  still  crush  Merriwell  and  his  father,  and  I  shall 


io6  Settling  a  Score. 

do  it.  That's  what  I'm  here  to  talk  about — to  plan 
for." 

Dade  did  not  answer,  though  he  stood  with  a  hot 
cloth  to  his  face,  staring  at  Santenel  in  a  fascinated 
way.  There  was  so  strong  a  bond  between  them,  and 
the  capabilities  of  the  greater  villain  were  of  so  sub- 
lime and  audacious  a  character  that  Dade  felt  drawn 
to  him,  as  an  inferior  mind  to  a  superior. 

Santenel  was  thinking,  as  he  looked  at  the  face  in 
the  ashes  of  the  photograph — thinking  first  of  a  face 
somewhat  like  that,  which  he  had  known  and  loved  so 
many  years  ago,  then  of  his  life  since  those  distant 
days,  and  particularly  of  his  connection  with  the  elder 
Merriwell,  whom  he  had  deeply  wronged — -Merriwell, 
who  had  hounded  him  throughout  the  world,  and 
whom  he  was  now  determined  to  crush  at  once  and 
forever  in  the  most  humiliating  way  that  his  fiendish 
inventiveness  could  suggest. 

"You  want  to  get  even  with  the  young  fellow  who 
knocked  you  out  a  while  ago?"  he  asked,  at  last  arous- 
ing himself,  but  speaking  in  that  same  low  monotone, 
as  if  addressing  the  picture.  Dade,  who  had  not  taken 
his  eyes  off  the  strange  man,  started  at  the  sound  of 
his  voice. 

"Be  careful,  or  you  will  be  heard!" 

Santenel  sat  more  erect,  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
passed  a  hand  half-dreamily  over  his  darkened  and 
stained  face. 

"I've  studied  something  of  acoustics,"  he  answered. 


Settling  a  Score.  107 

"You  couldn't  have  heard  that  yourself  if  your  ears 
hadn't  been  on  edge." 

"I  hate  him !"  snarled  Dade,  speaking  of  Starbright. 
"I  shall  never  rest  until  I've  wiped  out  the  insult  of 
those  blows  to-night." 

"You  can't  do  it  by  going  at  him  face  to  face  and 
fist  to  fist.  He  would  simply  knock  you  out  again. 
You  must  try  another  way.  Only  fools  and  pugilists 
resort  to  slugging-matches  to  settle  real  or  fancied 
wrongs.  A  man  who  is  a  mere  bulldog  fighter  is  only 
a  bungler  and  blunderer.  There  are  other  ways,  surer 
ways,  safer  ways." 

Dade  had  crushed  the  towel  in  his  tremulous  hand 
and  was  still  staring  at  Santenel,  as  if  the  reserved  and 
unseen  power  of  this  terrible  man  enchained  him. 

"There  are  two  things !"  Santenel  droned  on,  drop- 
ping his  shoulders  and  sinking  lower  in  his  chair,  as 
he  again  seemed  to  talk  to  the  fire.  "I  want  to  strike 
Charles  Conrad  Merriwell,  and  you  want  to  even  your 
score  with  Dick  Starbright  Both  can  be  done  at  the 
same  time." 

Dade  leaned  forward,  his  face  working  with  hate 
against  Starbright 

"How?"  he  whispered.    "Only  tell  me  how?" 

"I  had  Charles  Merriwell  in  my  power  a  short  time 
ago,  and  his  son  broke  my  grip  and  got  him  away.  I 
must  get  him  in  my  power  again.  I  can't  do  it  while 
Frank  Merriwell  is  here  in  New  Haven,  for  his  father 
will  not  leave  the  place  now  for  a  number  of  days, 


io8  Settling  a  Score. 

and  it  may  be  weeks  and  months.  He  fears  me  too 
much  since  that.  Frank  must  be  lured  out  of  the 
city." 

"How  are  you  to  do  it?"  Dade  demanded. 

"Get  him  away  on  a  ball-game,  or  some  kind  of 
game." 

"The  football  season  is  over." 

"There  is  a  polo-team  at  New  London." 

"Merriwell  might  play  them  if  they  would  come 
here." 

"He  must  play  them  there." 

"He  won't  do  it." 

"He  must  be  made  to  do  it." 

"How?" 

"That's  for  you  to  answer.  Perhaps  I  can  help 
you.  But  it  must  be  done.  Starbright  is  on  his 
team?" 

"Yes." 

"That's  what  I  thought.  They  must  play  the  New 
London  polo-team  in  New  London.  And  while  they 
are  over  there  I  will  work  my  plans  to  get  Charles 
Conrad  Merriwell  again  in  my  power.  But  Frank 
must  be  out  of  New  Haven.  Must  be  lured  out,  I 
say.  I  can't  cope  with  him,  and  I  must  have  a  clear 
track  here  if  I  am  to  win.  I  know  I  can  win  if  he 
can  be  led  away.  I  don't  care  how  you  do  it,  so  it  is 
done.  Perhaps  I  can  help  you." 

He  sunk  his  head  deeper  between  his  shoulders,  and 
his  eyes  blazed  as  brightly  as  the  fire. 

"And  Starbright?"  Dade  anxiously  and  tremulously 


Settling  a  Score.  109 

asked,  for  he  was,  at  the  moment,  more  interested  in 
the  overthrow  of  Starbright  than  of  Merriwell. 

"A  polo-game  is  a  rough  game,  and  a  polo-stick 
may  be  a  dangerous  weapon  in  the  hands  of  the  right 
man.  If  there  is  not  a  man  on  the  New  London  team 
who  will  do  the  work  for  you,  scheme  some  way  to  get 
a  man  on  that  team  who  will.  I  have  heard  of  men 
having  their  arms  broken  in  such  games.  I  see  no 
reason  why  a  man  mightn't  be  killed  in  such  a  game  !'f 

He  spoke  as  coldly  as  if  his  eyes  were  not  flames  of 
fire  and  his  heart  a  seething  volcano.  Dade  flushed  and 
paled,  while  his  breath  came  panting  hot  from  between 
his  lips. 

"I'll  do  it !"  he  said,  gasping  out  the  promise.  "I'll 
do  it,  somehow.  I'll  need  money  to  work  the  trick, 
maybe,  and  a  lot  of  it.  Money  can  do  anything,  if  a 
fellow  only  has  enough  of  it." 

Santenel  turned  on  him  those  awful  eyes.  The 
pupils  had  shrunk  to  a  pin-point  in  size  and  Dade 
shivered,  for  they  seemed  to  shoot  out  at  him  points  of 
fire. 

"You're  a  devil!"  he  half-gurgled  to  himself,  but 
the  words  caught  the  keen  ears  of  Santenel. 

"Only  a  villain,  with  the  purse  of  Fortunatus !  How 
much  will  you  need  ?  I'll  help  you  out  of  what  I  won 
from  Frank  Merriwell  in  those  poker-games  with  him, 
when  I  was  trying  to  conquer  him  and  he  conquered 
me.  There  will  be  an  added  pleasure  in  fighting  him 
with  his  own  money.  The  battle  isn't  lost,  Dade ;  the 
fighting  has  only  begun !" 


1 10  Settling  a  Score. 

He  felt  in  an  inner  pocket,  and  taking  out  a  roll  of 
bills,  threw  it  to  Dade. 

"That's  a  good  deal  more  than  I  obtained  from 
Merriwell.  But  take  it.  We  can't  afford  to  count  the 
cost.  Spend  it  like  water.  A  thousand  dollars  will 
buy  half  the  thugs  in  New  York.  Get  the  right  men 
on  that  New  London  polo-team,  and  do  what  you 
please  with  Starbright;  just  so  you  secure  for  me  a 
clear  field  here  in  New  Haven.  We'll  have  money 
enough  after  we  have  won  out!" 

Dade  took  the  roll,  looked  it  through  with  paling  and 
flushing  face,  for  he  saw  that  Santenel  had  been  more 
than  generous,  then  he  tucked  it  away  in  his  pocket. 

"I  could  buy  up  the  police  force  of  New  Haven 
with  that!"  he  laughed.  "Don't  be  afraid  but  that 
I'll  put  it  where  it  will  do  the  most  good!" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MORGAN   SETS   THE   BALL   ROLLING. 

"Seen  yer  friend  goin'  away!"  said  Bill  Higgins, 
catching  hold  of  Starbright's  arm,  the  next  morning. 
"I  reckon  't  you  thumped  him  so  that  he's  goin'  to  cut 
out.  Anyway,  he  looked  like  a  critter  that  had  pulled 
his  picket-pin  and  was  stampedin'  from  the  range." 

"Oh,  you  mean  Morgan?" 

Starbright  had  been  walking  up  the  street  from 
the  station  toward  the  college  when  overtaken  by 
the  cowboy. 

"Yep !  You  give  him  sich  a  thumpin'  last  night  that 
I  reckon  he's  lit  out.  'Feared  you'd  tell  of  it,  and  he 
hain't  the  sand  to  face  the  laugh  that  the  fellers  will 
give  him." 

Starbright  also  had  been  at  the  railway-station, 
though  he  had  not  been  observed  by  Higgins. 

"Didn't  know  but  there  mought  be  an  elopement, 
first  off!"  grinned  Higgins.  "Durn  purty  young 
woman  come  trippin'  'long  at  the  same  time  he  did, 
goin'  to  take  the  same  train,  and  he  waltzed  toward 
her  and  offered  her  his  wing,  er  ruther  I  thought  't 
he  was  goin'  to  offer  it  to  her.  But  dinged  if  she 
seen  him  at  all!  Mighty  queer,  too,  for  he  was  big 
enough.  But  she  didn't  see  him — didn't  notice  him, 
when  he  tuck  off  his  cap  and  scraped  his  foot  across 


H2        Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling. 

the  floor  like  a  nigger  fiddler  at  a  dance,  ner  nuthin', 
but  jist  sashayed  right  by  him  'thout  lookin'  at  him, 
and  hopped  onto  the  car  steps  all  by  her  lonesome! 
Say,  ye  don't  reckon  she  done  that  there  fer  a  blind, 
and  that  they  was  really  goin'  away  together,  do  ye?" 

Starbright  had  observed  the  same  performance — 
had  seen  Rosalind  Thornton  come  down  to  the  station 
and  cut  Bade  Morgan  dead  when  he  came  forward  to 
assist  her  to  the  platform  of  the  car. 

"No  elopement!"  said  Dick.  "I  guess  she  wanted 
to  cut  his  acquaintance." 

"Well,  the  manners  of  this  hyer  effete  East  goes 
ahead  of  me,"  said  Higgins.  "Out  on  the  ranches 
when  ye  want  to  cut  an  acquaintance  ye  do  it  with  a 
knife.  But  I  reckon  I'll  ketch  on  bimeby.  Had  a 
notion  hoppin'  on  that  there  train  myself,  only  it 
was  goin'  the  wrong  way.  I'd  'a'  gone  if't  hadn't  been 
fer  Merriwell.  Say !  I  tie  to  that  feller !  I  never  seen 
another  like  him.  Hyer  I  come  fer  a  day  er  two,  and 
I've  been  hyer  I  don't  know  how  long,  a-stayin'  jist 
on  account  of  him.  If  them  Yale  perfessors  would  let 
a  feller  read  their  books  with  a  lasso  and  write  with 
a  picket-pin,  I'd  enter  the  blamed  old  college  myself, 
jist  to  stay  with  Merriwell.  Never  seen  no  sich  man 
on  this  hyer  earth.  Treats  every  feller  like  a  king! 
And  't  don't  make  no  difference  to  him  whether  a 
man  stepped  out  of  a  bandbox  er  come  straight  off  the 
ranges.  All  he  asks  is  that  a  man  shall  be  a  man !" 

Dick  Starbright  was  quite  as  willing,  ordinarily,  to 


Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling.        1 1 3 

sing  the  praises  of  Frank  Merriwell  as  any  one,  but 
just  then  his  thoughts  were  too  much  engrossed  with 
the  departure  of  Bade  Morgan  and  Rosalind  Thorn- 
ton from  the  city.  He  did  not  know  that  Dade  was 
on  his  way  to  New  London,  with  scheming  brain  filled 
with  plans  for  the  carrying  out  of  the  wishes  of  Dion 
Santenel,  but  he  knew  that  Rosalind  was  on  her  way 
home  after  her  prolonged  visit  in  New  Haven. 

He  made  rather  a  poor  companion  for  Bill  Higgins, 
as  he  and  the  cowboy  walked  together  up  the  street, 
almost  forgetting  Higgins'  chatter  while  thinking  of 
all  that  had  occurred  since  Rosalind  came  to  New  Ha- 
ven on  a  visit  to  her  aunt.  He  and  Rosalind  were 
confessed  sweethearts  then;  now  she  had  gone  away, 
and  he  had  not  even  said  good-by  to  her. 

It  had  been  his  intention  to  at  least  say  "good-by" 
as  she  took  the  train,  if  a  favorable  opportunity  came, 
but  Morgan  had  loomed  into  the  foreground  at  the 
wrong  time,  and  the  words  had  not  been  spoken.  He 
had  not  even  gone  forward,  and  he  did  not  believe  that 
Rosalind  had  observed  him  as  he  stood  in  the  crowd 
at  the  station. 

"It's  just  as  well,  no  doubt!"  he  thought,  with  a  lit- 
tle ache  in  his  big,  generous,  manly  young  heart. 

Yes,  it  was  just  as  well.  Rosalind  had  shown  that 
she  had  a  jealous,  narrow,  spiteful  disposition,  which 
was  certain  to  bring  trouble  to  any  young  man  who 
really  cared  for  her.  But  Starbright  knew  that  she 
was,  in  spite  of  all  this,  a  lovable  girl  in  many  other 
respects ;  and,  though  the  dream  he  had  cherished  con- 


H4        Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling. 

earning  himself  and  her  was  shattered  and  gone,  and 
he  felt  that  it  was  better  so,  he  could  not  quite  cure 
that  ache  in  his  heart — yet. 

Starbright  and  Higgins  separated  on  reaching 
Chapel  Street.  They  met  again  in  the  gymnasium  late 
in  the  afternoon,  where  Merriwell  and  some  others 
were  skimming  round  on  roller-skates  engaged  in 
roller  polo  practise. 

"Oh,  he  won't  accept  the  challenge!"  Bertrand  De- 
farge  was  sneering.  "He  never  jumps  at  anything 
that  isn't  dead  sure." 

"Who  ye  talkin'  'bout  ?"  Higgins  asked,  for  he  saw 
that  Defarge  was  looking  toward  Merriwell. 

"Merriwell!"  the  French  youth  answered,  not 
abashed  by  the  presence  of  the  cowboy,  who  was 
known  to  be  a  "Merriwell  maniac."  Higgins'  hand 
went  into  his  pocket  and  drew  out  a  bulky  wallet, 
from  which  he  produced  a  roll  of  bills. 

"Bet  ye  any  amount  you're  minded  to  name  that  he 
will!" 

"Will  what?"  asked  Starbright,  stepping  forward; 
whereat  the  Chickering  set,  who  had  been  grouped 
round  Defarge,  drew  back  as  if  they  feared  his  bulk 
or  the  weight  of  his  fist. 

"Durn  if  I  know!"  Higgins  admitted.  "But  he 
seems  to  think  that  Merriwell's  afraid,  and  I'm  backin' 
the  general  proposition  that  Merriwell  ain't  afeared 
of  anything!  So  there's  yer  money.  Put  up  er  shut 
up!" 


Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling.        115 

"I  don't  care  to  bet  with  a  man  who  doesn't  know 
what  he's  talking  about!"  sneered  Defarge. 

"I  know  Merriwell !  That's  what  I'm  talkin'  'bout 
and  what  my  money's  talkin'  'bout!  Put  up  er  shut 
up!" 

"Oh,  come  away!"  begged  Chickering,  the -professed 
peacemaker,  tugging  at  Defarge's  sleeve.  "We  don't 
care  to  bet  about  this  thing,  you  know." 

"Put  up  er  shut  up!"  bellowed  Higgins;  but  De- 
farge and  the  Chickering  set  moved  away. 

"He  shut  up!"  Higgins  observed,  grimly  tuck- 
ing the  money  back.  "That's  what  I  intended.  I 
dunno  a  durn  thing  what  he  was  talkin'  'bout,  but  I 
don't  'low  nobody  to  slander  Merry." 

They  soon  discovered  what  Defarge  had  been  talking 
about.  A  challenge  by  wire  had  been  received  by 
Merriwell's  polo-team  from  the  polo-team  at  New 
London,  asking  Frank  to  set  a  date  for  a  game,  but 
insisting  that  the  game  should  be  played  in  New  Lon- 
don. This  was  of  interest  to  Starbright,  for  he  was 
a  member  of  tHe  polo-team  which  Frank  had  organ- 
ized and  was  training. 

Defarge  came  back  after  a  while,  and  this  time  he 
had  a  roll  of  bills  which  he  had  obtained  from  Dade 
Morgan.  Roland  Packard  and  Don  Pike  also  ap-  « 
peared  on  the  scene  with  goodly  sums  of  money,  which 
they  were  willing  to  wager  that  Merriwell's  team 
would  not  dare  to  accept  the  challenge  of  the  New 
London  men. 


n6        Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling. 

"Why  do  you  want  to  bet  against  Yale?"  Rupert 
Chickering  hypocritically  protested,  when  Gene  Skel- 
ding  also  appeared,  clothed  with  funds  and  renewed 
confidence.  "Loyalty  to  Old  Eli,  you  know!" 

"Rot!"  said  Skelding.  "It  isn't  a  question  of  Yale 
and  Old  Eli.  Merriwell  has  organized  a  team  of  his 
individual  friends.  They  represent  nothing  but  Mer- 
riwell's  swelled  head.  They  are  trying  to  make  them- 
selves and  every  one  else  believe  that  they  can  wipe 
up  the  earth  with  everything  in  the  polo  line.  We 
intend  to  prick  the  bubble.  We're  going  to  show  that 
they  won't  dare  to  meet  any  team  that  can  play." 

"You're  sure  of  the  New  London  team?" 

"Yes;  but  it  isn't  the  regular  New  London  team. 
It's  a  private  team,  just  as  Merriwell's  is ;  but  it  holds 
some  crack  players.  They  are  willing  to  meet  Merri- 
well. If  he  was  at  the  head  of  a  regular  Yale  team  he 
could  refuse  by  saying  that  he  would  only  meet  college 
teams.  But  as  it  is,  he  won't  have  a  leg  to  stand  on  if 
he  refuses.  We're  going  to  make  him  play  or  take 
water."  / 

That  night  Hodge  met  Merriwell  in  a  troubled 
mood.  He  was  a  member  of  Frank's  team,  and  the 
bets  that  were  being  freely  offered  more  than  irritated 
him,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  say  so. 

"You'll  have  to  meet  them,  Merry,  just  to  take  the 
wind  out  of  these  gas  balloons!"  he  argued.  "They 
say  that  you  won't  accept  the  challenge,  and  that  if 
you  should  you  would  insist  on  playing  the  match 
here.  Those  New  London  fellows  demanded  that  we 


Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling.        117 

should  go  over  there  because  they  say  they  wouldn't 
have  a  fair  show  in  a  New  Haven  rink." 

"I  don't  know  that  I  shall  pay  any  attention  to  the 
challenge.  Whoever  heard  of  those  fellows  before, 
anyway?" 

Dick  Starbright  talked  the  matter  over  with  Bert 
Dashleigh  that  night  in  the  seclusion  of  their  room. 
Dashleigh  sat  in  an  easy  chair,  toying  with  his  mando- 
lin, which  he  now  and  then  thumped  when  the  con- 
versation lagged.  There  was  a  rap  on  the  door,  and 
when  it  was  opened  -Ready  came  in. 

"Going  into  the  thing?"  he  queried,  squatting  on 
the  arm  of  a  chair. 

Dashleigh  had  risen,  and  now  put  down  his  man- 
dolin. Though  Ready  had  hazed  and  annoyed  him  in 
common  with  other  freshmen,  he  had  great  respect  for 
him. 

"Camp  down!"  Ready  requested,  then  repeated  his 
question. 

"Into  what  thing?"  Dick  asked,  wondering  if  Ready 
was  setting  another  sophomore  trap  for  him  and  his 
friend. 

"Oh!  Then  the  news  hasn't  floated  hitherward? 
I'm  to  be  congratulated.  Thanks!  I  think  I'll  shake 
hands  with  myself." 

Which  he  did,  very  solemnly. 

"Chance  for  a  fortune!"  he  said,  winking  owlishly. 
"Merriwell's  polo-team,  of  which  you  and  I  are  the 
most  important  members" — bowing  toward  Starbright 
— "has  been  challenged  by  a  little  upstart-team  from 


n8        Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling. 

hinky-dinky  New  London.  Now,  I'd  like  to  go  to 
New  London.  Acquainted  with  a  young  lady  over 
there,  you  know.  I  should  like  to  wear  my  beautiful 
polo-suit  and  show  her  that  I  am  a  Pole.  Merriwell 
won't  go.  At  least,  he  says  he  won't.  Now,  we're 
getting  up  a  sort  of  combination  jack-pot.  Every 
Merriwell  enemy  is  walking  around  the  streets  of  this 
great  and  glorious  city  with  his  pockets  turned  inside 
out  and  his  hands  bulging  with  great  rolls  of  green- 
backs, saying  that  Merriwell  won't  go.  So  we're  col- 
lecting a  fund  for  the  needy,  which  is  going  to  say 
that  Merriwell  will  go,  and  that  his  team  will  knock 
the  tar  out  of  the  boasters  at  New  London.  I  was 
sure  you'd  want  to  get  into  the  game;  hence  trotted 
my  feet  hitherward.  Subscriptions  to  this  fund  un- 
limited; repayment  guaranteed  with  one  hundred  per 
cent,  interest  immediately  after  the  New  London 
match." 

Then,  seeing  that  Starbright  hesitated,  he  continued, 
as  if  the  information  was  all  that  was  needed: 

"Bill  Higgins  heads  the  subscription-list  with  fifty 
dollars,  which  he  says  he  already  owes  for  board,  but 
which  he  is  willing  to  stack  up  on  Merriwell.  Bart 
Hodge  goes  Higgins  ten  better.  Browning  has  roused 
himself  long  enough  and  sufficiently  to  stop  smoking 
and  draw  a  check  for  a  pretty  little  sum.  Yours  truly, 
the  undersigned,  is  into  it  so  deep  that  I'll  have  to 
shave  myself  for  the  next  five  years  or  grow  Pfeffer 
whiskers  if  we  lose.  And  there  are  likewise  others 
and  some  more.  So,  I  thought " 


Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling,        119 

He  took  out  a  square  of  legal  cap,  on  which  the 
signatures  of  various  students  appeared,  with  figures 
set  opposite  their  names.  This  he  tossed  to  Starbright. 

Dashleigh  was  going  down  into  his  pockets. 

"Oh,  I'm  always  strapped!"  he  grunted.  "I'm 
spending  my  allowance  faster  than  it  comes  to  me. 
But  if  Starbright  will  lend  me  twenty-five,  I'll  wager 
it." 

Starbright  passed  him  the  paper. 

"Why,  you're  bound  to  lose!" 

Ready  winked  another  owlish  wink  of  wisdom. 

"Milord,  why  sayest  thou  so?" 

"Because,  as  you  say  yourself,  Merriwell  has  de- 
clared that  he  won't  accept  the  challenge." 

Ready  rose,  reseated  himself,  wiggled  the  ringers  of 
his  right  hand  from  the  armhole  of  his  vest,  and 
winked  again. 

"What  makes  you  so  confident?"  Dick  demanded, 
while  Bert  was  looking  over  the  list. 

"I  have  been  commanded  to  tell  it  not  in  Gath,  to 
publish  it  not  in  the  streets  of  Askelon,  yclept  New 
Haven;  but  in  these  rooms " 

He  arose,  walked  solemnly  about  as  if  peering  for 
a  possible  eavesdropper,  peeped  under  the  lounge  and 
under  some  chairs,  and  came  back. 

"Put  all  you  can  beg,  borrow,  or  steal  on  this  prop- 
osition.  It's  a  dead  sure  thing.  The  bet  isn't  that  our 
team  will  win  the  game,  but  that  our  team  will  play. 
We're  going  to  clean  out  the  boasters  that  have  been 
tantalizingly  shoving  their  money  under  our  noses — 


I2O       Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling. 

clean  them  out  so  slick  that  they  won't  have  enough  tc 
take  them  home  for  the  Christmas  holidays.  Why  do 
I  know?" 

He  looked  around  again,  lowered  his  voice  and 
funneled  his  hands. 

"I  know,  because  Charles  Conrad  Merriwell  has 
himself  bet  a  little  roll  with  a  New  London  man  that 
Frank  will  accept  the  challenge  and  will  beat  the 
New  London  challengers!" 

Both  Starbright  and  Dashleigu  stared.  The  thing 
was  unbelievable. 

"Are  you  sure?"  Dick  asked. 

"Sure !  The  fellow  came  to  the  New  Haven  House 
to-night,  made  the  offer  in  the  presence  of  a  dozen  men, 
shook  the  cold  cash  under  Charles  Merriwell's  nose, 
and  Merriwell,  like  the  true  sporting  man  and  gentle- 
man that  he  is,  promptly  covered  the  money." 

"Oh,  say!  let  me  have  a  hundred,  somebody!"  Dash- 
leigh  begged. 

"The  New  London  man  was  a  fool  to  offer  such  a 
wager !" 

"I  think  so  myself;  and  a  'fool  and  his  money'  are 
likely  to  be  soon  parted.  But  the  idea  is  out,  some- 
how, that  Frank  is  afraid  to  accept  the  challenge  and 
will  not  accept  it  under  any  consideration.  They  say 
he  values  his  reputation  as  a  successful  leader  of  ath- 
letic-teams more  than  he  does  his  father's  money ;  that 
five  thousand  dollars  is  nothing  to  Charles  Merriwell, 
and  a  defeat  of  his  polo-team,  made  up  as  it  is  of  his 
close  friends,  would  be  everything  to  Frank.  So,  the 


Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling.        121 

fools  are  silly  enough  to  think  Frank  won't  play,  and 
that  they've  got  a  cinch." 

"You're  sure,  then,  that  Frank  will  accept?" 

"Why,  of  course  he'll  accept  t  If  I  didn't  know  him 
so  well  I'd  think  he  was  holding  off  this  way  on  pur- 
pose to  get  big  bets  out  of  the  proposition.  He  will 
accept  the  challenge  to  please  his  father.  Nothing 
else  would  make  him  do  it,  probably;  but  that  will." 

"Say!  somebody  lend  me  two  hundred  dollars!" 
Dashleigh  begged.  "If  I  thought  my  folks  would  do 
it,  I'd  telegraph  them  to  forward  me  two  or  three 
months'  allowance  in  advance.  But  they  wouldn't. 
You're  going  to  put  up  money  on  the  game,  too  ?" 

"Sure!" 

Jack  Ready  did  not  go  away  from  the  rooms  of  the 
chums  empty-handed;  and  not  long  after,  when  all 
arrangements  had  been  made  and  other  sources  laid 
under  contribution,  Bertrand  Defarge,  Don  Pike,  Ro- 
land Packard,  Gene  Skelding,  the  members  of  the 
Chickering  set,  and  many  others  who  had  been  flash- 
ing their  "rolls"  under  the  nose  of  every  friend  of 
Frank  Merriwell,  found  their  offered  bets  covered, 
and  were  bantered  to  lay  wagers  on  the  game. 

It  was  a  night  of  excitemer.  ,  for  in  all  the  places  of 
resort  for  students,  and  in  many  other  places  as  well, 
the  challenge  of  the  New  London  men  and  the  probable 
action  of  Frank  Merriwell,  together  with  the  bets  that 
were  being  offered  and  made,  were  almost  the  sole 
topics  of  conversation. 

Dade  Morgan  went  to  his  rooms  smiling  and  elated. 


122        Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling. 

He  had  worked  out  the  plan  given  to  him  by  Dion 
Santenel. 

To  his  surprise  he  found  Santenel  sitting  before 
the  grate,  awaiting  his  coming. 

These  mysterious  appearances  and  disappearances 
of  the  man  he  obeyed,  loved,  and  feared  were  often 
quite  puzzling  to  Morgan.  Time  and  again  he  had 
walked  into  his  rooms,  after  carefully  unlocking  the 
door,  and  found  sitting  there  the  strange  man  of  mys- 
tery; and  often,  after  leaving  the  man  there,  he  re- 
turned in  a  very  few  moments  to  find  Santenel  gone 
for  an  absence  of  a  week  or  more.  Santenel's  abi- 
ding-place seemed  to  be  as  changing  and  unsubstantial 
as  that  of  the  Wandering  Jew ;  and  where  he  stayed 
while  in  New  Haven  Dade  had  never  yet  been  able  to 
learn. 

"Waiting  for  your  report,"  said  Santenel.  "I  heard 
a  few  things  myself,  but  I  thought  it  unwise  to  ap- 
pear too  publicly." 

"Everything  has  gone  on  swimmingly !"  was  Dade's 
jubilant  preface.  "Things  worked  right  from  the 
start.  I  found  two  men  at  New  London  who  played 
right  into  my  hands.  One  of  them  I  knew  before,  and 
that  made  the  thing  easy  for  me.  He  had  done  dirty 
work  for  me  before,  and  he's  all  right.  They  had 
been  talking  of  organizing  a  polo-team  out  of  some 
fellows  who  had  been  rejected  or  expelled  from  the 
other  team,  and  they  organized  it  on  the  spot,  and 
wired  their  challenge." 

Then  he  gleefully  told  of  the  bets  that  had  been 


Morgan  Sets  the  Ball  Rolling.        12* 

made,  dwelling  especially  on  the  bet  which  Charles 
Conrad  Merriwell  had  made  with  one  of  Dade's  tools 
from  New  London. 

"The  challenge  will  be  accepted,  and  the  game  will 
be  played,"  was  Santenel's  satisfied  comment.  "I'll 
see  that  Charles  Conrad  Meriwell  stays  in  New  Haven 
that  day  and  meets  me.  You  must  have  the  game  early 
in  the  afternoon — Saturday  afternoon.  Not  a  night 
game  f  I  want  plenty  of  time  to  do  my  work.  Have 
the  New  London  men  stand  to  that." 

He  rubbed  his  fingers  joyously,  and,  sinking  into 
the  chair,  stared  into  the  grate  with  his  burning  eyes. 

"Merriwell  will  accept  the  challenge!"  he  declared, 
as  he  rose  to  go. 

He  was  a  true  prophet.  Frank  accepted  the  New 
London  challenge  the  next  morning. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE     POLO     KING. 

Saturday  morning  the  Yale  forces  trooped  to  New 
London.  The  number  of  persons  who  went  that  morn- 
ing, or  said  they  were  going  later  in  the  day,  was 
really  surprising.  That  such  a  mob  should  be  drawn 
to  New  London  to  see  a  polo-game  between  Merri- 
well's  team  and  an  unknown  team  of  New  London 
was,  on  the  surface,  unaccountable;  yet  Merriwell's 
friends  accounted  for  it  by  the  fact  that  Merriwell 
and  the  men  who  composed  his  five  were  wonderfully 
popular,  and  that  a  tremendous  interest  had  been 
aroused  by  the  sky-rockety  character  of  the  betting. 

But  there  was  something  below  the  surface  that  they 
did  not  see ;  the  crafty  hand  and  brain  of  Dade  Mor- 
gan, and  the  mysterious  man  who  was  standing  be- 
hind him  urging  him  on.  Santenel  wanted  the  mob 
bound  for  New  London  to  swallow  up  every  Yale  man 
who  was  likely  to  interfere  with  his  plans  concern- 
ing Charles  Conrad  Merriwell.  Hence  Morgan  sent 
all  of  his  friends  and  adherents,  and  all  the  enemies 
of  Merriwell  he  could  muster,  knowing  that  this  would 
cause  a  counter  rally  of  the  friends  of  Merriwell  and 
take  them  to  New  London,  also. 

But  the  elder  Merriwell  himself  was  not  going. 
He  could  not  go,  he  told  Frank,  because  he  had  re- 


The  Polo  King.  125 

ceived  a  telegram  from  a  broker  who  was  handling 
Western  mining  stock  for  him,  and  who  was  coming 
on  from  New  York  that  day  for  a  business  interview. 

The  importance  of  the  occasion  seemed  to  demand 
music,  and  Dashleigh's  mandolin  club  invaded  the 
New  London  train,  loaded  down  with  cases  containing 
mandolins,  guitars,  and  various  other  musical  instru- 
ments. The  crowd  was  very  jolly  and  very  musical, 
and  bellowed  such  classics  as  "Good-by,  Lady!"  and 
"Good-by,  My  Lover,  Good-by!"  until  many  of  the 
passengers  who  were  not  interested  in  such  things,  and 
particularly  some  Boston  drummers  on  their  way  to 
Providence,  who  were  investigating  the  mysteries  of 
a  jack-pot  at  the  other  end  of  the  car,  wished  that 
mandolins  had  never  been  invented,  or  that  musically 
inclined  students  had  all  been  born  dumb. 

Dashleigh  and  his  fellow  musicians  were  supremely 
satisfied  with  themselves,  however,  and  with  the  world 
in  general,  proving  it  by  bubbling  over  with  exuber- 
ant spirits.  Dashleigh  and  Starbright  had  taken  the 
first  train,  in  order  that  they  might  get  ahead  of  the 
crowd  and  secure  good  hotel  accommodations.  When 
New  London  was  reached,  and,  finding  there  a  great 
crowd  assembled,  Starbright  put  his  bulky  weight  in 
the  advance,  with  Dashleigh  and  the  mandolin  club 
trailing  after  him,  and  plowed  a  wide  furrow  through 
the  crowd  and  escaped  to  a  hotel  in  time  to  get  the 
desired  rooms  and  accommodations. 

"There's  only  one  thing  that  can  save  my  mandolin," 
said  Bert,  when  he  and  Dick  were  ensconced  in  com- 


126  The  Polo  King. 

fort  and  security.  "You'll  have  to  lend  me  another 
tenner.  And,  then,  it  may  not  save  it." 

"What's  that?" 

"Well,  I  haven't  money  enough  to  liquidate  for 
this  gorgeousness." 

Starbright  frowned. 

"Been  betting  some  more?** 

"Well,  you  see,  I  couldn't  help  it  And  I've  about 
bet  the  mandolin." 

"How  was  that?" 

"Well,  you  see,  Rol  Packard  shook  a  fiver  under 
my  nose,  and  I  told  him  I  hadn't  any  more  money, 
but  would  put  my  mandolin  against  it. 

Starbright  sighed. 

"Dashleigh,  you'll  bet  the  coat  off  your  back  next !" 

"There  are  others!  And  I'll  be  all  right  as  soon 
as  I  get  the  money  I've  already  won." 

Indeed,  there  were  "others"  of  Merriwell's  friends 
who  were  as  wild  in  their  betting  as  Bert  Dashleigh. 

The  game  was  to  be  called  at  half-past  two  o'clock. 
Before  that  hour  the  polo-rink  was  crowded  with  men 
and  boys,  Yale  students  and  pretty  girls,  who  were  in- 
terestedly watching  a  preliminary  match-game  be- 
tween two  New  London  teams  of  amateurs. 

Dashleigh's  mandolin  club  was  there,  in  seats  at 
one  end  of  the  big  rectangular  "surface,"  thumping 
away  in  the  intervals  of  play. 

The  blue  colors  of  Yale  were  everywhere  conspicu- 
ous, as  if  to  refute  the  assertions  of  Merriwell's 
enemies  that  Frank's  team  was  not  an  accredited  Yale 


The  Polo  King.  127 

institution.  More  blue  would  not  have  been  displayed 
if  a  regular  Yale  college  five  was  about  to  meet  a 
five  from  another  great  university.  The  crowd  grew 
denser  and  denser,  as  the  watches  showed  the  ap- 
proach of  the  hour. 

By  and  by  the  amateurs  concluded  their  playing, 
and  the  New  London  team,  which  was  a  New  London 
team  in  name  only,  came  upon  the  "surface"  for  a 
warming-up  before  meeting  Merriwell's  men. 

While  they  were  engaged  in  this,  Frank  and  his 
five  entered  the  room,  their  entrance  immediately  at- 
tracting attention.  They  came  in,  clothed  in  their 
roller-polo  costume,  with  roller-skates  on  their  feet. 

Then  more  than  half  the  crowd  seemed  to  rise  up; 
and,  led  by  Bill  Higgins,  who  swung  his  big  sombrero 
and  yelled  like  an  Indian  at  a  horse-race,  they  gave 
Merriwell  and  his  men  a  rousing  cheer.  Dade  Morgan 
whitened  with  rage. 

"Hear  the  fools!"  he  inwardly  snarled.  "When 
will  they  ever  get  done  worshiping  Merriwell?" 

The  difference  between  the  two  teams  was  marked. 
Two  of  the  opposing  team  looked  like  New  York 
toughs,  which  they  were,  and  the  captain  was  a  trucu- 
lent-looking fellow,  with  eyes  set  close  together. 

When  the  New  London  team  gave  way  for  Merri- 
well's, and  Frank  led  his  men  on  the  floor  for  practise, 
the  difference  between  the  teams  was  so  noticeable 
that  Higgins  again  started  a  cheer  which  seemed  to 
rock  the  building. 

"I  thould  like  to  get  that  fellowth  wope  awound 


128  The  Polo  King. 

hith  neck  and  choke  him!"  Lew  Veazie  disgustedly 
lisped  to  his  chums  of  the  Chickering  set,  as  he  lis- 
tened to  the  cowboy's  bellcwing.  "It  maketh  me  thick !" 

"You'll  be  sicker  before  the  game  is  over!"  said 
Beckwith,  the  big  guard  of  the  Yale  football-team, 
who  chanced  to  overhear  him.  "It  makes  me  ashamed 
to  know  that  you  fellows  are  Yale  men." 

"But  Merri well's  isn't  a  Yale  team !"  snarled  Skel- 
ding. 

"Oh,  it  isn't?  Well,  the  best  men  in  Yale  think  so. 
Listen  to  that  yelling,  if  you  don't  believe  it!  Look 
at  those  blue  ribbons,  if  you  don't  believe  it!  Merri- 
well  is  the  king  of  Yale,  and  you  know  it,  you  miser- 
able puppies !" 

"If  he  wathn't  tho  bigf  I'd  thump  him!"  Veazie 
gasped,  when  Beckwith  had  pushed  on.  "Why,  the 
audathious  villain!" 

Merriwell's  team  finished  its  practise.  Silence 
reigned;  even  Dashleigh's  mandolin  club  ceasing  its 
efforts  when  the  hour  arrived  for  the  match-game  on 
which  so  much  was  staked. 

The  referee  came  upon  the  floor,  or  "surface,"  with 
the  ball,  and  the  teams  grouped  in  front  of  the  goal- 
cages.  This  was  the  line-up  of  the  teams : 

YALE.  POSITION.  NEW  LONDON. 

Merriwell Rush Crowder. 

Starbright Rush Gates. 

Ready Center Mehan. 

Hodge Half-back Weathers. 

Browning Goal Bascom. 

The  referee  placed  the  rubber-covered  polo-ball  on 


The  Polo  King.  129 

the  spot  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  The  members  of 
the  teams,  who  had  been  standing  in  front  of  their  re- 
spective goal-cages,  straightened  up  and  leaned  strain- 
ingly  forward,  ready  to  dash  for  the  ball  when  the 
whistle  sounded. 

The  referee  stepped  to  one  side  of  the  surface  when 
he  had  placed  the  ball,  and  put  his  whistle  to  his  lips. 
Crowder,  who  was  captain  and  rush — he  of  the  nar- 
row eyes  and  truculent  face — was  in  motion  before 
the  sharp  blast  cut  the  air,  but  the  referee  did  not  send 
him  back,  and  the  whistle  blew  almost  immediately. 
Then  Frank  went  down  the  floor  like  a  shot,  and 
from  under  Crowder's  outstretched  stick  uncovered 
the  spot  and  sent  the  ball  bang  against  the  planking 
at  the  back  of  the  New  London  cage. 

Bill  Higgins  opened  up  again  with  the  roar  of  a 
buffalo,  and  the  Yale  men  yelled. 

Weathers,  the  New  London  half-back,  got  the  ball 
and  sent  it  flying  toward  the  middle  of  the  surface, 
where  Ready  blocked  its  passage  with  his  feet  and  shot 
it  again  toward  the  New  London  goal.  Bascom  was 
in  front  of  it,  however,  and  kicked  it  away  with  a 
savage  snarl,  as  if  he  were  kicking  at  an  enemy's  head. 
He  was  big  and  fat,  with  an  enormous  face  and  an 
unwholesome  form. 

Then  Weathers  struck  the  ball;  but  it  was  stopped 
by  Hodge,  and  there  was  a  furious  mix-up  near  the 
center  of  the  floor,  from  out  of  the  midst  of  which  the 
ball  was  shot  by  Starbright. 

Mehan  now  took  a  hand  and  skipped  the  ball  toward 


130  The  Polo  King. 

the  Yale  end;  and  Gates,  getting  in  ahead  of  Star- 
bright  and  Merriwell,  shot  it  for  the  Yale  goal. 

Big  Bruce  Browning  was  there,  however,  with  legs 
and  stick  ready  for  duty,  and  he  blocked  the  play,  dri- 
ving the  ball  to  one  side. 

Gates,  who  was  a  fast  skater,  got  behind  it  with 
his  stick  and  again  sent  it  toward  Bruce.  It  missed 
the  goal,  however,  going  behind  it ;  and  a  struggle  for 
its  possession  ensued  between  Crowder  and  Starbright, 
Crowder  roughly  trying  to  shoulder  Dick  out  of  the 
way;  but  in  the  attempt  he  was  hurled  against  the 
planking,  and  the  ball,  dragged  by  Starbright's  stick 
away  from  the  wall  and  from  behind  the  goal,  was 
caromed  by  him  to  Ready,  who  ran  with  it  down  the 
floor  and  shot  it  toward  the  New  London  end  of  the 
surface. 

Here  another  fight  ensued  for  its  possession,  the 
ball  being  batted  and  banged  about,  stopped  by  clubs 
and  feet  and  sticks,  until  it  was  flirted  out  of  the  me- 
lee by  Bart  Hodge  and  again  flew  toward  the  New- 
London  goal. 

Bascom  was  in  place.  He  kicked  it  out  of  the  way, 
and,  lunging  for  another  kick,  uncovered  the  ball,  and 
Merriwell  shot  the  ball  into  the  cage. 

The  first  goal  of  the  phy  had  been  made. 

The  teams  now  changed  goals ;  and,  while  this  was 
being  done  and  they  were  getting  in  readiness  for 
the  next  play,  Dashleigh's  mandolin  club  began  to 
"discourse  sweet  music,"  which  was  drowned,  how- 
ever, by  the  yells  of  the  Yale  men,  led  by  Bill  Higgins. 


The  Polo  King.  131 

The  yelling  and  the  music  ceased  as  the  referee  ad- 
vanced again  toward  the  middle  of  the  floor  with  the 
ball.  The  contesting  teams  crouched  in  readiness 
while  he  put  the  ball  on  the  spot  Then,  before  walk- 
ing aside,  the  referee  made  his  announcement : 

"First  goal,  Yale;  made  by  Merriwell.  Time,  two 
minutes  and  twenty  seconds." 

He  put  the  whistle  to  his  lips,  having  walked  aside 
while  concluding  the  announcement,  and  Crowder 
started.  The  referee  waved  him  back;  then  sounded 
his  whistle,  and  the  rushers  darted  out. 

Again  Merriwell  got  the  ball  and  sent  it  flying 
down  the  floor.  It  was  stopped  by  Mehan,  the  New 
London  center ;  but  Ready  took  it  away  from  him  and 
sent  it  again  toward  the  New  London  goal,  where  it 
was  stopped  by  the  fat  goal-end,  who  knocked  it 
back  with  his  stick.  Then  Hodge  succeeded  in  get- 
ting the  ball  and  started  down  the  floor  with  it,  driving 
past  Mehan  and  Weathers.  But  Gates,  who  had 
skated  round  in  a  half-circle,  stopped  the  ball  with  his 
stick  before  it  reached  the  goal-end. 

Bang!  Weathers  drove  it  straight  and  hard  to  the 
Yale  end  of  the  floor  and  against  the  planking, 
Starbright  and  Merriwell  drove  it  from  the  vicinity  of 
the  Yale  goal,  Merriwell  running  it  down  to  Star- 
bright  and  the  latter  passing  it  around  Crowder  by  a 
handsome  carom  against  the  wall  and  on  to  Hodge, 
who  again  tried  to  drive  a  goal. 

But  in  doing  so  he  slipped  and  came  down  with  a 
thump  on  the  floor.  One  of  his  skates  had  broken. 


132  The  Polo  King. 

The  referee's  whistle  blew  and  time  was  given  for 
Bart  to  put  on  other  skates. 

Dade  Morgan,  who  had  secured  a  good  seat  in  one 
of  the  side  galleries,  which  enabled  him  to  look  down 
on  the  surface  and  observe  every  movement  of  the 
players,  found  it  difficult  to  keep  the  smile  on  his  face. 
He  fiercely  wanted  the  New  London  men  to  win — not 
because  of  the  bets  which  had  been  made,  but  be- 
cause he  fancied  the  loss  of  the  game  would  humiliate 
Merriwell  and  Starbright. 

He  was  watching  Mehan  and  Bascom,  who,  with 
others,  were  walking  about  the  floor  near  their  goal 
with  their  skates  skewed  to  the  sides  of  their  feet,  in 
this  interval  of  play.  Bascom  and  Mehan  were  the 
men  from  New  York  who  had  been  hired  by  him  to 
knock  out  Dick  Starbright,  by  breaking  his  arm,  or 
otherwise  seriously  injuring  him  before  the  end  of  the 
game. 

Dade  was  thinking,  too,  as  he  looked  at  them,  of 
what  he  fancied  was  transpiring  in  New  Haven  at 
that  time,  and  rejoicing  in  the  probably  successful 
result  of  the  efforts  of  Dion  Santenel  to  snare  Charles 
Conrad  Merriwell. 

"I'm  afraid  that  Merriwell's  men  are  the  better 
players,"  he  was  forced  to  confess  to  himself.  "But 
only  one  goal  has  been  made,  and  there  are  plenty  of 
chances.  Anyway,  if  one  of  those  fellows  knocks  out 
Starbright  satisfactorily  I  shall  be  satisfied,  whichever 
way  the  game  goes." 


The  Polo  King.  133 

Again  the  game  was  on,  the  skaters  flying  here  and 
there,  after  the  elusive  sphere,  swooping  down  on  it 
from  all  quarters,  as  it  skipped  back  and  forth  under 
the  constant  strokes  of  the  sticks. 

It  was  clearly  to  be  seen  that  Merriwell's  men  were 
the  more  scientific  players.  They  did  not  hammer  at 
the  ball  constantly,  as  if  trying  to  smash  it  into  dust,  as 
the  New  Londoners  did,  but  made  team  plays,  gliding 
the  ball  from  man  to  man  around  opposition  players, 
caroming  it  against  the  walls  and  skilfully  shooting  it 
for  goal. 

The  playing  of  the  New  London  men  was  of  the 
slugger  type,  as  befitted  their  appearance.  Bascom, 
their  goal-tend,  was  savage  and  fierce  as  a  chained 
wolf,  hopping  about  in  front  of  the  cage,  kicking  at 
the  ball,  striking  at  it,  and  frantically  warding  it  off 
when  it  was  shot  at  the  cage.  Now  and  then  he  lifted 
his  club  and  glared  at  the  Yale  men  as  they  swooped 
on  him,  as  if  he  desired  to  hammer  their  heads.  More 
than  once  Mehan  caught  a  Yale  player  round  the  shoul- 
ders and  pushed  him  about,  yet  the  referee  did  not  an- 
nounce a  foul. 

Mehan  tried  this  once  too  often,  jamming  with  ter- 
rific force  into  Dick  Starbright,  who  was  skating  in 
the  opposite  direction.  The  result  was  disastrous  to 
the  New  London  man,  who  was  hurled  from  his  feet 
by  the  force  of  the  impact,  being  literally  lifted  by 
Starbright's  greater  weight  and  strength.  He  fell 
with  a  crash,  striking  his  head  on  the  floor,  and  lay  for 
a  moment  stunned. 


134  The  Polo  King. 

The  referee  blew  his  whistle;  and,  as  if  to  cover  up 
the  confusion,  Dashleigh's  band  began  to  play. 

"I'll  git  even  with  ye  for  that!"  Mehan  growled 
viciously,  as  he  crawled  to  his  feet. 

Then  it  was  found  that  in  the  fall  he  had  broken 
his  skate,  and  a  wait  was  occasioned. 

"Look  out  for  that  fellow,  Dick!"  Frank  warned. 
"He  has  been  acting  ugly  toward  you  ever  since  the 
game  began.  Once,  when  he  struck  at  the  ball  in  the 
air,  as  if  his  stick  were  a  baseball  bat,  and  missed  it, 
I  thought  he  really  struck  at  you.  I  believe  now  he 
did!" 

"Oh,  I  saw  the  rascal!"  Dick  smiled.  "I've  been 
watching  him  ever  since.  But  I  don't  fancy  he  will 
care  to  run  into  me  again,  as  he  did  just  then." 

The  fierceness  of  the  New  London  men  seemed  to 
increase  when  the  play  began  again,  and  within  two 
minutes  they  had  caged  the  ball,  catching  Browning 
off  his  guard  and  shooting  the  sphere  between  his  legs. 

Then  how  the  friends  of  Dade  Morgan  cheered,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  the  goal  had  been  won  from 
Yale! 

"They're  fools!"  Morgan  snarled  to  himself.  "I 
warned  them  against  making  such  a  show  of  them- 
selves; but  lots  of  fellows  haven't  any  more  tact  than 
to  exhibit  themselves  in  that  way." 

Yet  he  was  so  pleased  that  the  smile  came  to  his 
face  without  any  effort  on  his  part. 

Dashleigh's  band  was  again  twanging  away,  but 
its  strains  could  not  soothe  the  heart  of  Morgan,  who. 


The  Polo  King.  135 

in  that  moment  of  temporary  victory,  felt  that  he  hated 
Merriwell  and  Starbright  more  than  he  had  ever  hated 
them. 

When  the  playing  recommenced  it  was  fast  and 
furious,  and  within  less  than  a  minute  Starbright  made 
a  goal.  Then  Crowder  drove  a  goal  for  New  Lon- 
don, the  score  was  again  tied,  and  the  referee's  whistle 
blew,  announcing  the  end  of  the  first  period  of  the 
match. 

When  the  referee's  whistle  blew  again  and  the  game 
recommenced,  Merriwell  reached  the  ball  first  and  sent 
it  flying  for  goal.  Bascom  stopped  it  with  his  padded 
shins,  kicked  it  away,  and  a  fight  for  its  possession 
took  place  near  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

Then  Starbright  secured  it  and  drove  it  again  to- 
ward the  New  London  goal;  but  Weathers,  the  half- 
back, blocked  it  with  his  feet,  and  it  shot  to  one  side 
of  the  hall,  with  four  or  five  men  diving  after  it. 
Ready  was  there,  and  drove  it  into  the  New  London 
goal,  but  it  bounded  out ;  and  another  struggle  for  its 
possession  ensued,  right  in  front  of  the  cage,  yet  far 
enough  away  to  prevent  the  calling  of  a  foul.  Hodge 
now  got  the  ball  and  shot  it  into  the  cage,  and  it  stayed 
there. 

There  was  a  transference  of  goals,  and  the  game 
was  renewed.  Again  Merriwell  drove  the  ball  for  the 
cage;  but  Bascom,  the  goal-tend,  stopped  it  with  his 
foot.  Weathers  skipped  it  back  to  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  where  there  was  a  struggle  for  it,  and  such  hot 


136  The  Polo  King. 

work  that  the  spectators  were  brought  up  standing 
with  a  yell. 

The  New  London  men  secured  the  ball  and  fought 
their  way  toward  the  Yale  end.  But  Browning  was 
there,  and,  though  they  made  a  desperate  effort  to 
put  the  ball  in  the  cage,  he  prevented  it 

Starbright  drew  the  ball  out  of  the  mix-up,  but  lost 
it;  and,  to  keep  it  from  being  caged,  Ready  shot  it 
behind  the  goal.  It  caromed  against  the  wall,  flying 
to  Merri well's  side,  and  before  Crowder  could  get  to 
him,  Merriwell  shot  it  for  a  goal. 

It  went  across  the  room  like  a  streak  of  light.  Bas- 
com  jumped  to  prevent  it  from  going  into  the  cage, 
but  missed  it ;  and  another  goal  was  added  to  the  score 
of  Merriwell's  side. 

Again  goals  were  changed,  but  before  another  score 
was  made  by  either  team  the  referee's  whistle  blew,  an- 
nouncing the  end  of  the  second  period  of  the  game. 
The  work  had  been  so  hot  and  fierce  that  neither  spec- 
tators nor  players  had  realized  the  quick  passage  of 
time,  and  the  sound  of  the  whistle  came  as  a  surprise. 

Bascom,  the  fat  goal-tend  of  the  New  London  team, 
who  had  worked  with  such  savage  energy,  was  drip- 
ping with  perspiration,  and  all  of  the  men  were 
more  or  less  blown. 

Whizz — plunk !  The  game  was  on  again,  and  Mer- 
riwell had  again  driven  the  ball  into  the  New  London 
cage.  Morgan's  face  looked  black.  He  had  forgot- 
ten to  smile.  He  saw  that  Merriwell's  men  were  play- 
ing now,  and  that  the  New  London  sluggers,  though 


The  Polo  King.  137 

they  were  fierce  fighters,  were  really  no  match  for  the 
Yale  five. 

The  goals  were  changed,  and  the  battle  raged  anew. 
Crowder  was  furious.  At  the  sound  of  the  whistle 
he  tried  to  take  the  ball  off  the  spot  ahead  of  Merriwell, 
a  thing  he  had  not  yet  been  able  to  do.  But  Frank 
took  the  ball,  as  before,  and  shot  it  past  him,  bang 
against  the  netting  of  the  cage.  It  bounded  out,  was 
caught  up  by  Weathers'  stick,  and  danced  to  the  middle 
of  the  floor.  Then  Mehan  sent  it  along,  and  there  was 
another  tussle  near  the  Yale  goal. 

In  the  struggle  that  ensued,  Mehan  struck  savagely 
at  Dick  Starbright's  head.  Dick  saw  the  blow  com- 
ing and  dodged,  and  the  stick,  swinging  over  and 
banging  against  the  floor,  was  broken  short  off. 

The  ball  had  been  in  the  air  at  the  time,  and  Mehan, 
profusely  apologizing,  declared  that  the  blow  had  not 
been  aimed  at  Dick,  but  at  the  ball ;  and,  after  another 
stick  had  been  given  to  him,  the  game  was  renewed. 

"See  here!"  Dick  hissed,  when  he  was  skating  by  the 
fellow,  "if  that  happens  again,  I'll  know  it's  no  acci- 
dent, and  I'll  thump  you  as  soon  as  the  game  is  over. 
See?" 

Mehan  whitened,  but  made  no  answer. 

The  New  London  men,  appearing  now  to  realize 
that  if  they  were  not  to  be  defeated  badly  they  must 
make  a  fierce  fight,  began  another  effort  to  cage  the 
ball  on  the  Yale  side.  But  Merriwell's  men  pushed  the 
ball  away  from  the  neighborhood  of  their  goal  out 
into  the  center  of  the  floor.  It  came  back,  however, 


I3»  The  Polo  King. 

and  Bruce  time  and  again  stopped  it,  in  a  way  to  win 
admiration  from  the  spectators. 

"They  can't  get  it  past  him !"  Bill  Higgins  bellowed, 
hopping  up  and  down  in  his  excitement  and  waving  his 
big  sombrero,  while  his  great  spurs  tinkled  and  jingled. 

Two  more  skates  were  broken,  and  stops  were  made. 
Then  Bruce,  trying  to  stop  a  ball,  pitched  forward 
headlong  on  the  floor,  and  Crowder,  who  was  striking 
at  the  ball,  deflected  his  stick  and  struck  Bruce  heavily 
over  the  head. 

"It  was  an  accident,"  was  the  verdict  of  the  referee 

Bruce's  head  was  bandaged,  and,  though  he  felt  so 
dizzy  from  the  effect  of  the  blow  that  he  could  hardly 
stand,  he  remained  at  his  post. 

Then  Ready  drove  another  goal,  and  Bill  Higgins 
whooped. 

"Them  New  London  fellers'll  never  git  another !"  he 
yelled. 

But  they  did.  The  New  London  men  rallied,  and 
in  less  than  two  minutes  made  two  goals,  setting  their 
sympathizers  wild  with  excitement. 

"I  ought  to  have  prevented  that,"  Bruce  apologized. 
"If  I  do  that  again,  Merry,  take  me  off  the  team." 

But  Frank  knew  that  New  London  would  not  have 
made  those  goals  if  Bruce  had  been  in  his  usual  condi- 
tion, and  he  kindly  told  the  big  fellow  so.  The  pain 
seemed  somehow  to  go  out  of  Bruce's  head  after  that, 
so  that,  when  the  next  time  the  ball  came  skipping 
toward  him,  he  blocked  it  promptly  with  his  padded 


The  Polo  King.  139 

shins,  and  sent  it  flying  back  to  the  other  end  of  the 
room  with  his  stick.  Again  the  battle  was  forced  out 
into  the  middle  of  the  rink. 

Two  goals  were  made,  one  by  Starbright  and  the 
other  by  Merriwell.  The  New  London  men,  growing 
more  and  more  furious,  tried  again  and  again  to  cage 
the  ball;  but  Bruce  Browning  was  seemingly  himself 
again,  and  each  time  cleverly  blocked  it  and  kept  the 
Yale  cage  empty. 

"Beat  'em  out  of  sight!"  Higgins  yelled  from  his 
seat  in  the  balcony ;  and  Merriwell  seemed  suddenly  to 
resolve  to  do  this,  and  show  the  spectators  what  real 
polo-playing  looked  like.  He  was  angered,  too,  by 
the  dastardly  blow  which  had  been  given  Bruce  and  by 
the  attempt  against  Starbright. 

There  were  not  many  minutes  more  of  play,  but  in 
that  time  Merriwell  proved  his  worthiness  of  the  title 
of  Polo  King.  Again  and  again  the  New  London  men 
came  charging  down  the  room  with  a  clanking  roar, 
for  a  struggle  for  the  ball,  but  Merriwell's  men,  seem- 
ing to  be  imbued  with  the  resolution  which  had  come 
to  Frank,  met  them  firmly,  took  the  ball  from  them 
easily,  and,  shooting  it  from  man  to  man  in  beautiful 
team  play,  caged  it  again  and  again.  Ready  caged  a 
goal,  being  followed  by  Bart  Hodge,  and  he  by  Dick 
Starbright.  Each  time,  when  these  goals  were  made, 
it  was  Merriwell  who  sent  the  ball  to  the  one  who  made 
the  goal,  sending  it  at  just  the  right  time  and  in  just 
the  right  way  to  enable  the  player  to  do  the  work. 

Then  Merriwell  himself  took  a  hand  at  the  work 


140  The  Polo  King. 

of  goal-making,  and  caged  the  ball  twice  in  less  than 
two  minutes  of  play. 

The  New  London  men  found  that  they  simply  were 
not  in  it,  though  they  tried  to  pull  themselves  together 
and  prevent  this  furious  goal-making  on  the  part  of 
the  Yale  team.  Bascom  hopped  up  and  down  and  to 
and  fro  in  front  of  the  cage,  like  the  proverbial  chicken 
on  the  proverbial  pan  of  live  coals.  He  lunged,  kicked, 
flounced,  and  writhed;  but  he  could  not  prevent  the 
goals,  for  they  seemed  to  shoot  from  Merry's  stick  past 
his  lunging  feet,  over  them,  under  them,  and  between 
them. 

Everybody  in  the  big  barnlike  building  was  standing 
up  in  mad  excitement,  as  the  game  thus  drew  toward 
its  close,  and  Bill  Higgins  was  whooping  as  if  he 
meant  to  take  off  the  roof. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  BLOW   OF  THE  HYPNOTIST. 

While  the  polo-teams  were  battling  at  New  London, 
Dion  Santenel  was  not  idle.  Charles  Conrad  Merri- 
well,  sitting  up-stairs  in  his  pleasant  front  room  at  the 
New  Haven  House,  looking  over  a  paper,  heard  a 
knock  on  the  door,  and  a  colored  boy  came  in  bear- 
ing a  card. 

"Fisher  Stokes,  stock-broker  and  mining-agent, 
Denver,  Colorado,"  was  what  Mr.  Merriwell  read  on 
the  card. 

"Been  waiting  for  you,"  said  Merriwell,  smiling 
pleasantly,  when  "Stokes"  was  shown  into  the  room. 

"Detained  by  a  little  business  down-town,"  the  man 
explained  suavely,  giving  the  apartment  a  comprehen- 
sive, sweeping  glance  out  of  the  corners  of  his  dark 
eyes  before  sinking  into  the  chair  which  Merriwell  po- 
litely placed  for  him. 

The  furnishing  was  substantial  and  old-fashioned. 
In  the  center  of  the  room  was  a  round-topped  table 
covered  with  a  heavy  slab  of  marble.  Between  the 
two  windows  which  looked  out  on  Chapel  Street  and 
the  green  was  a  long  pier-glass.  A  green  velvet  carpet 
covered  the  floor,  and  the  room  was  furnished  with 
an  abundance  of  comfortable  chairs  and  a  sofa.  An 


142         The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist. 

alcove  bedroom  opened  off  from  this  main  room,  its 
doorway  half -concealed  by  curtains.  In  addition  to 
this  there  was  a  bathroom.  The  apartments  were  the 
best  and  most  expensive  in  the  house,  and  the  house  the 
best  that  New  Haven  afforded. 

As  Fisher  Stokes  took  all  this  in,  he  came  to  the 
quick  conclusion  that  the  white-haired  man  who  had 
been  waiting  for  him,  seated  at  the  round  marble- 
topped  center-table,  was  comfortably  situated,  to  say 
the  least. 

"As  I  had  to  come  on  to  New  York,  I  wired  you 
that  I  would  call  here  this  afternoon  to  see  you  about 
the  shares  in  the  Anaconda  group  in  the  Cripple  Creek 
district,"  he  continued,  beginning  to  open  a  case  which 
the  colored  boy  had  brought  into  the  room.  He 
looked  now  with  his  keen,  dark  eyes  at  Merriwell  pretty 
much  as  he  had  looked  at  the  room  and  its  furnishings. 

"I  knew  you  were  Merriwell  as  soon  as  I  saw  you. 
I  think  I  should  have  known  you,  even  if  I  had  met 
you  by  chance  in  the  street,  though  we  have  never 
met  before.  You  see,  I  had  a  man  in  my  office  who 
once  worked  for  you  in  Arizona  in  a  minor  capacity. 
When  he  found  out  that  I  was  handling  stocks  for 
you,  he  became  so  interested  that  he  gave  me  a  com- 
plete description  of  your  personal  appearance  and  told 
so  many  things  concerning  you  that  I  have  felt  for 
months  as  if  we  were  personally  acquainted.  Some 
of  this  business  might  have  been  conducted  by  mail  and 
wire,  but  I  thought,  as  I  was  so  near  in  New  York, 


The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist.         143 

that  it  was  a  duty  I  owed  to  myself  and  you  to  run 
up  and  see  you." 

There  was  nothing  in  the  man's  appearance  to  in- 
dicate to  Merriwell  that  he  was  Brandon  Drood,  alias 
Dion  Santenel,  his  old  and  bitter  enemy,  from  whose 
power  he  had  escaped  so  short  a  time  before,  through 
the  aid  of  Frank.  "Fisher  Stokes,"  who  was  evidently 
past  middle  age,  was  almost  Frenchy  in  appearance, 
with  well-waxed  mustache  and  imperial  that  hid  the 
lines  of  his  thin  lips  and  cold,  cruel  mouth.  His  thin, 
straight  form  was  encased  in  a  dark-gray  business 
suit  A  diamond  blazed  on  the  middle  finger  of  his 
left  hand  and  another  shone  in  his  scarp-pin.  The 
fiery  gleam  of  the  eyes  had  been  subdued  and  almost 
banished;  and,  as  he  talked,  Merriwell  noticed  that 
his  voice  was  soft  and  well  modulated.  It  held  noth- 
ing of  the  real  accents  of  Brandon  Drood,  nor  of  the 
droning  tones  of  the  pretended  Hindu.  In  all  things 
"Fisher  Stokes"  seemed  to  be  what  he  professed  to 
be,  a  prosperous,  alert,  rather  self-important  mining- 
broker  of  the  West.  And,  as  Mr.  Merriwell  had  never 
seen  the  real  Fisher  Stokes,  who  was  handling  West- 
ern mining-shares  for  him,  he  was  the  more  easily  de- 
ceived. 

"What  was  the  name  of  the  man  ?"  Merriwell  asked, 
at  once  interested  in  Drood's  statement ;  for,  like  many 
men  who  have  made  themselves  immensely  wealthy  by 
a  lucky  turn  of  fortune,  Merriwell  was  sometimes  gar- 
rulously fond  of  recalling  and  dilating  on  the  past  and 
on  the  days  of  his  hardships  and  misfortune. 


144         The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist 

"Byron  Macomber." 

"Ah,  yes!" 

Mr.  Merriwell's  face  lighted. 

"Macomber  was  one  of  my  most  trusted  clerks  while 
I  was  in  Arizona.  So  he  is  with  you  now?  I  am 
afraid  that  I  failed  to  reward  him  properly  for  his 
services  to  me.  Tell  him  so,  please,  and  that  at  any 
time  if  he  needs  aid  I  shall  be  glad  to  extend  it." 

Santenel  had  taken  the  papers  from  the  leathern 
case  and  placed  them  on  the  table. 

Then  the  fiery  gleam  came  into  Santenel's  eyes — 
those  terrible,  fascinating,  serpentlike  eyes — and  they 
glowed  and  burned,  contracting  and  expanding  their 
pupils,  as  they  eagerly  studied  the  face  of  Charles 
Conrad  Merriwell. 

"So  soon!"  Santenel  mentally  croaked.  "So  soon  I 
have  him  in  my  power!  And  I  feared  it  might  be 
the  work  of  hours.  Yes,  he  is  already  under  my  influ- 
ence and  does  not  know  it.  I  have  him  again.  Ah! 

Charles  Conrad  Merriwell!     You,  who  hounded  me 

\ 

over  the  earth  until  at  length  I  turned  at  bay,  deter- 
mined to  crush  you  instead  of  permitting  you  to  crush 
me,  I  have  you  again  in  my  power,  and  you  shall  not 
escape!" 

The  reflective  light  began  to  fade  out  of  the  eyes  of 
Mr.  Merriwell,  to  be  replaced  by  a  look  of  vacancy. 
Then  he  made  a  struggle  to  arouse  himself,  but  the 
struggle  was  weak  and  inflective.  Santenel's  mysteri- 


The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist         145 

ous  power  was  already  over  him,  holding  his  will  in 
subjection. 

And  Frank,  who  had  saved  him  before,  was  far 
off  in  New  London,  battling  with  the  New  London 
polo-team!  * 

In  a  little  while  Santencl  began  to  talk  in  a  low, 
soothing  monotone,  still  stabbing  Mcrriwell's  face  and 
eyes  with  his  terrible  eyes. 

"In  those  days  I  was  not  known  as  Dion  Santenel," 
he  droned,  as  if  seekh.j  to  strengthen  a  memory  that 
he  sought  to  stir  in  the  mind  of  the  man  he  was  subju- 
gating. "Then  I  was  called  Brandon  Drood.  You 
struck  me,  you  know — struck  me  like  a  dog,  for  cheat- 
ing you  at  cards ;  and  I  planned  a  revenge,  a  sweet  re- 
venge. I  discovered,  as  I  lay  on  my  bed  where  your 
blow  had  placed  me,  that  I  was  able  to  hypnotize  you 
— made  the  first  discovery  of  the  fact  that  I  have  that 
mysterious  power  over  other  men.  I  used  it  I  made 
you  imprison  yourself  in  that  tunnel  in  the  Ragged 
Queen  Mine,  where  I  supposed  you  would  die.  But 
you  found  a  way  out.  You  regained  possession  of 
what  I  thought  a  used-out  mine,  which  you  named  the 
Lost  Man,  and  from  which  you  dug  a  fortune.  Then, 
with  that  wealth  at  your  back,  you  began  to  hound 
me,  pursuing  me  everywhere,  dragging  me  down  when 
I  climbed  to  affluence  and  striking  at  me  without 
mercy.  But  now  my  time  has  come!  The  worm  has 
turned.  I  have  studied  and  plotted  and  planned  for 
this  hour.  For  this  hour  I  have  made  myself  all  men 
— coming  and  going  with  the  silence  of  night  and  like 


146         The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist. 

the  changing  characters  on  the  theater  boards.  All  for 
this  hour!  What  have  I  not  suffered,  endured?  For 
this  hour!  For  this  hour!" 

The  dilating  and  contracting  pupils  seemed  minia- 
ture furnaces  with  their  shooting  flames,  and  the  words 
lulled  Merriwell  as  the  crooning  lullaby  of  a  mother 
lulls  to  sleep  the  babe. 

"You  are  in  my  power,  and  you  will  do  as  I  wish !" 
Santenel  said  at  length,  ceasing  that  low  droning. 

He  arose  and  locked  the  door,  turning  the  key  in 
the  lock  and  hanging  a  cloth  over  it  to  keep  out  any 
penetrating  gaze,  though  the  position  of  the  door  made 
it  most  unlikely  that  any  one  could  see  where  Merriwell 
sat,  bolt  upright  now  in  the  chair. 

Coming  back,  Santenel  made  a  pass  with  his  hands 
over  Merriwell's  face,  commanded  him  to  rouse  up, 
and  Merriwell  sat  up  yawning  as  if  he  had  been 
aroused  from  a  nap.  He  looked  at  Santenel  with  va- 
cant curiosity. 

"Now  as  to  that  business,"  said  Santenel,  spreading 
out  some  blank  paper  on  the  marblvtopped  table  and 
producing  pen  and  ink. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Merriwell.  "Let  me  see,  I  forgot 
what  it  was?" 

"This  is  the  last  day  of  your  life,  you  know !  When 
the  sun  rises  to-morrow,  Charles  Conrad  Merriwell 
will  have  ceased  to  exist.  Aye!  before  the  sun  goes 
down  in  the  west  to-night — goes  down  where  the 
Ragged  Queen  was  and  the  Lost  Man  Mine  now  is — - 
you  will  be  gone  from  this  world!" 


The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist.         147 

"Yes,  yes!"  Merriwell  assented,  without  a  note  of 
fear  or  regret  in  his  voice.  "That  was  what  brought 
you  here?  I  had  forgotten,  but  that  was  it" 

"But  before  you  go  I  want  you  to  write  a  state- 
ment, which  will  show  the  world  why  you  go  and  what 
is  to  become  of  some  of  your  property — a  great  deal 
of  your  property." 

"Yes,  yes!"  Merriwell  again  assented. 

Santenel  produced  a  book  of  bank-checks  which  he 
had  previously  rilled  in.  There  were  many  of  them,  all 
for  large  amounts,  and  bearing  various  dates,  some  as 
much  as  six  months  before. 

"You  are  not  so  wealthy  as  the  world  thinks  you, 
when  your  debts  are  paid !  My  commissions  for  kiting 
the  Blue  Bird  mining-stock  for  you  were  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  It  was  no  fault  of  mine  that  the 
Blue  Bird  was  a  worthless  hole  in  the  ground.  You 
knew  that,  and  I  was  only  pushing  your  ventures.  You 
lost,  but  you  gave  me  two  notes  of  fifty  thousand  each 
for  my  commission." 

He  pushed  out  two  notes,  which  Merriwell  merely 
stared  at. 

"Then  I  took  up  and  developed  the  Golden  Nugget, 
at  a  cost  to  you  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars,  every  cent  of  which  I  paid  out  of  my  own 
pocket,  though  for  business  reasons  we  permitted  the 
world  to  think  you  advanced  the  money  yourself.  The 
Golden  Nugget  had  no  golden  nuggets  in  it,  and  you 
lost;  but,  of  course,  I  must  have  my  money,  and  you 


148         The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist. 

gave  me  two  more  notes  for  that,  each  of  seventy-five 
thousand  dollars." 

He  pushed  them  over,  properly  rilled  out,  bearing 
interest,  and  a  date  of  five  months  previous. 

"Then  there  was  that  big  deal  in  Rocky  Mountain 
coal  land,  and  all  those  other  deals  which  you  so  readily 
remember.  The  whole  of  it  amounts  to  eight  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  I  should  make  it  two  millions 
if  I  wasn't  afraid  of  the  courts.  Sometimes  a  man's 
desire  to  suddenly  enrich  himself  bumps  him  up  against 
the  courts,  and  he  loses  all  that  he  hoped  to  gain  and 
more,  too.  Your  son  Frank  is  a  fighter!" 

These  last  remarks  seemed  to  be  directed  to  himself 
and  not  to  Merriwell,  and  Merriwell  appeared  not  to 
hear  them. 

Santenel  slowly  pushed  the  prepared  notes  across 
the  table  and  reached  out  the  pen  to  Merriwell,  the  lat- 
ter taking  it  without  hesitation. 

"You  will  sign  these  notes;  after  which  you  will 
prepare  a  written  statement  of  the  reasons  which  led 
you  to  take  a  sudden  departure  from  this  earthly 
sphere !" 

Merriwell  drew  the  notes  to  him,  not  noticing  that 
they  were  drawn  payable  to  another  name  than  that  of 
"Fisher  Stokes,"  and,  dipping  the  pen  in  the  ink-well, 
he  proceeded  to  append  his  name. 

Santenel  dried  the  ink  of  the  signatures  with  a  blot- 
ter and  placed  the  notes  in  a  little  heap  on  the  marble 


The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist.         149 

table.    Then  he  shoved  a  sheet  of  paper  to  Merriweli 
and  commanded  him  to  write. 

"This  is  what  you  are  to  say,"  commanded  Santenel, 
and  Charles  Conrad  Merriweli  set  his  pen  to  the  paper : 

"To  MY  SON  FRANK. 

"DEAR  FRANK  :  The  only  regret  I  have  is  in  leav- 
ing you,  for  I  know  that  you  love  me  and  that  you 
will  be  shocked  and  grieved  at  my  death,  the  death  of 
a  suicide.  But  life  has  become  unbearable  to  me.  I 
can  stand  it  no  longer.  I  have  studiously  concealed 
this  from  you,  though  I  fear  sometimes  that  you  have 
read  it  in  my  face.  I  am  in  good  mental  health;  but 
I  have  ceased  to  have  any  desire  to  live.  You  have 
sometimes  noticed  idiosyncrasies  in  me.  The  at- 
tempt to  hide  from  you  my  real  feelings  and  my  heart- 
sickness  of  the  world  will  go  far  toward  explaining 
them.  I  hope  that  my  body  will  not  be  cast  up  by  the 
waves,  and  that  if  it  should  be,  it  may  lie  unburied, 
though  this  last  I  know  you  will  not  permit.  Pay  all 
my  debts.  I  have  some  notes  outstanding,  among 
others  some  heavy  ones  occasioned  by  wildcat  mining 
speculation.  These  I  must  ask  you  to  meet.  The  rest 
of  my  fortune  is  yours.  So  good-by;  don't  think  too 
hard  of  me,  and  do  not  grieve,  for  I  am  not  worthy 
of  it. 

"Your -unfortunate  father, 

"CHARLES  CONRAD  MERRIWELL." 

This  was  properly  dated. 

"We  will  leave  that  here  on  the  table — or,  rather, 
you  will;  and  then  you  will  do  what  I  tell  you.  Just 
a  plunge,  and  it  will  all  be  over.  Any  man  might 
crave  so  easy  an  exit  from  the  world!" 


I5O         The  Blow  of  the  Hypnotist 

He  was  again  fixing  his  terrible  eyes  on  th»  now 
almost  vacant  face  of  Frank's  father,  thinking  at  the 
same  time  of  the  steps  he  must  now  take  to  carry  out 
his  plan  to  its  conclusion  and  secure  his  own  safety. 
"You  will  do  all  that  I  tell  you?" 
"Yes,"  Merriwell  answered.     "Everything!" 


CHAPTER  XV. 

INZA   TO   THE   RESCUE. 

Spat — whiz — plunk !  The  game  was  still  on  at  New 
London,  and  Frank  Merriwell  drove  and  caged  a  ball. 

The  referee's  whistle  blew,  denoting  the  close  of 
the  last  period  of  the  game ;  and  he  followed  this  with 
the  announcement  of  the  scores: 

"Goals  made  by  Yale,  fifteen;  by  New  London, 
four." 

Dade  Morgan  was  gnawing  his  smiling  lips,  in  his 
seat  in  the  balcony. 

"Curse  the  fellows,  they  have  failed  me!"  he  was 
thinking. 

Then  he  saw  Bascom  jostle  heavily  against  Dick 
Starbright!  saw  a  sudden  altercation,  and  beheld  Bas- 
com's  polo-stick  flash  through  the  air.  When  it  fell, 
Dick  Starbright  fell  with  it. 

The  crowd  was  rising  and  streaming  out  of  the 
building.  Bascom  dived  to  the  nearest  netting,  which 
he  cut  away  with  furious  slashes  of  a  knife,  leaped 
through  the  opening  thus  made,  pushed  aside  the  men 
who  were  there,  and  sprang  for  a  small  door,  the  posi- 
tion of  which  he  had  previously  ascertained.  Before 
the  extent  of  Starbright's  injury  could  be  known  or 
a  pursuit  organized  Bascom  was  gone. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  the  first  to  reach  Starbright. 


152  Inza  to  the  Rescue. 

He  lifted  Dick  and  saw  that  the  polo-stick  had  struck 
his  head.  There  was  a  small  gash  and  some  blood. 
But  Frank  saw  almost  immediately  that,  though  the 
blow  had  knocked  Starbright  senseless,  its  effects  were 
not  likely  to  be  of  a  serious  character. 

A  doctor  came  out  of  the  crowd,  and  an  excited 
group  soon  gathered  in  the  "surface." 

Bart  Hodge  and  others  were  trying  to  discover  what 
had  become  of  Bascom.  The  other  members  of  the 
New  London  polo-team  pushed  into  the  crowd  and 
expressed  their  sympathy,  and  were  free  in  their  decla- 
rations that  Bascom  must  have  acted  in  a  fit  of  anger 
on  the  impulse  of  the  moment  and  without  any  malice. 

Dick  Starbright  did  not  long  remain  unconscious. 
The  blow  had  been  aimed  well  enough,  but  Dick's  up- 
thrust  arm  had  deflected  it  and  it  had  fallen  glancingly, 
producing  only  temporary  concussion. 

"Oh,  he's  all  right!" 

The  doctor  said  it,  and  the  doctor  laughed  encour- 
agingly. A  boy  pushed  toward  Frank  with  a  tele- 
gram. Frank  tore  open  the  envelope  and  read: 

"Man  here  with  your  father.  I  think  D.  S.  Come 
quick.  Will  meet  you  at  wreck  with  automobile. 

"INZA." 

Inza  Burrage  had  sent  it  from  New  Haven. 

Frank,  after  a  cheering  word  to  Dick  Starbright, 
jumped  out  of  the  room,  hurrying  toward  the  street 
without  changing  his  clothing.  As  a  short  cut,  he 
took  the  little  door  through  which  Bascom  had  fled. 


Inza  to  the  Rescue.  153 

He  was  about  to  emerge  into  the  light  from  a  small 
and  unused  side  entrance,  when  he  heard  a  rustling 
and  became  aware  that  a  man  who  had  been  about  to 
leave  the  place  ahead  of  him  had  drawn  back  and  was 
now  apparently  in  hiding. 

"Bascom!"  was  Frank's  thought. 

Before  the  man  knew  that  his  presence  had  been 
observed,  Frank  was  on  him,  pouncing  down  like  an 
eagle. 

It  was  indeed  Bascom,  who  had  succeeded  in  hiding 
in  the  building,  and  who,  fancying  that  the  coast  was 
now  somewhat  clear,  had  decided  to  venture  forth  and 
try  to  get  out  of  the  town  before  a  more  thorough 
search  might  reveal  his  place  of  hiding. 

Frank  clutched  him  by  the  throat,  bore  him  back- 
ward to  the  floor,  calling  for  assistance.  Before  it 
came,  however,  he  had  found  a  rope  and  tied  Bascom 
up  ready  to  turn  him  over  to  the  authorities. 

Then  he  relinquished  him  to  Hodge,  who  had  come 
with  others  in  answer  to  his  call.  After  a  few  words 
with  this  most  faithful  friend,  Frank  hurried  away 
for  the  railway-station  and  telegraph-office. 

There  he  learned  that  a  freight  had  been  wrecked 
on  its  way  from  New  Haven,  and  that  the  track  would 
not  be  open  for  some  time. 

Then  he  fully  understood  Inza's  message.  It  would 
be  impossible  for  him  to  get  through  to  New  Haven 
by  rail,  because  of  this  wreck;  and  she  would  be  at 
the  place  where  the  wreck  occurred,  with  the  automo- 


154  lnza  to  the  Rescue. 

bile,  ready  to  take  him  on  into  New  Haven  at  the 
highest  speed  of  the  auto,  as  soon  as  he  reached  her. 

"Brave  and  quick-witted  as  ever!"  was  his  thought. 
"I  wonder  what  she  has  learned  of  Dion  Santenel 
now?  I  thought  the  rascal  would  abandon  his  at- 
tempts and  be  afraid  to  return  to  New  Haven.  But  I 
will  get  there,  and  I  will  thwart  him  in  his  scheme, 
whatever  it  is." 

Frank  might  not  have  been  so  confident  if  he  had 
known  just  what  Santenel  was  doing,  and  how  he  was 
succeeding. 

"When  will  there  be  a  train  through  to  New 
Haven?"  he  asked  of  the  agent. 

"All  trains  abandoned,"  was  the  answer. 

"What  about  a  wrecking-train  ?" 

"It  won't  take  passengers,  and  it  will  go  no  farther 
than  the  wreck." 

Frank  did  not  ask  anything  more,  except  the  distance 
the  wreck  had  occurred  from  New  Haven.  He  heard 
two  men  talking,  and  from  their  conversation  learned 
that  the  wrecking-train  would  be  along  in  ten  or  fif- 
teen minutes,  from  some  city  down  the  road,  and  that 
the  chances  were  it  would  go  through  New  London 
without  making  a  stop. 

Frank's  mind  was  at  once  made  up.  He  would  try 
to  get  on  that  wrecking-train,  even  if  he  had  to  make 
a  flying  leap  for  it  at  great  risk  from  the  New  London 
platform.  Then  he  sent  a  message  to  Inza. 

"Ten  minutes  to  spare,  anyway !'  he  reflected.  "I'll 
make  a  change  in  my  clothes." 


Inza  to  the  Rescue.  155 

Hurrying  back  to  the  polo-rink  for  this  purpose,  he 
thought  over  the  message  from  Inza.  There  was  a 
possibility  that  she  might  have  been  deceived  as  to 
the  identity  of  the  man  who  was  with  his  father,  but 
Frank  knew  that  her  eyes  were  keen.  The  chances 
were  that  she  was  not  deceived.  In  that  case,  there 
could  be  no  doubt  that  the  elder  Merriwell  was  in 
serious  peril. 

The  thought  that  he  might  be  too  late  made  Frank 
wish  for  a  special  train  for  the  scene  of  the  wreck; 
but  that  could  not  be  had  in  New  London.  Nor  was 
anything  to  be  gained  by  trying  to  hire  a  special  en- 
gine. He  decided  that  if  he  missed  the  wrecking-train 
he  would  try  to  get  a  special  engine  by  wire. 

When  he  returned  to  the  station,  having  been 
stopped  on  the  way  by  crowds  of  enthusiastic  men 
who  insisted  on  shaking  hands  with  him  over  the  great 
fight  he  and  his  men  had  made  in  the  polo-game,  he 
sent  a  telegram  to  Selton  Dirk,  the  little  New  Haven 
detective  whom  he  had  more  than  once  employed, 
asking  Dirk  to  call  on  his  father  at  the  New  Haven 
House  and  do  what  in  his  judgment  he  thought  proper. 

"Dirk  is  quick  and  he'll  catch  on,"  was  Frank's 
thought,  as  he  gave  this  message  to  the  operator  and 
asked  him  to  hurry  it  through.  The  message  went 
through ;  but  Frank  did  not  know  until  later  that  Dirk 
was  out  of  the  city  and  that  it  could  not  reach  him. 

The  whistle  of  the  engine  of  the  special  wrecking- 
train  was  heard  at  this  moment.  Its  character  told 
him  that  the  train  was  not  to  stop. 


156  Inza  to  the  Rescue. 

Frank  remained  close  against  the  wall  of  the  station 
until  the  engine  whirled  in  sight,  then  walked  toward  it. 


Five  miles  out  from  New  Haven,  at  the  scene  of 
the  wreck,  Inza  Burrage  sat  in  Frank  Merriwell's  auto- 
mobile, with  smiling  confidence.  She  had  received 
his  message,  which  said  he  would  reach  that  point  on 
the  first  train  through,  and  she  believed  he  would  do 
so,  even  though  the  men  who  were  plowing  round  the 
wreck  with  spades  and  picks  told  her  that  the  big 
wrecking-train,  whose  coming  they  anxiously  awaited, 
would  not  stop  at  New  London,  and  that  her  friend 
could  not  possibly  come  through  on  that. 

When  the  train  came  and  stopped  at  the  wreck  Inza 
found  her  faith  in  Merriwell  justified.  He  was  in 
the  caboose  of  the  wrecking-train;  and,  leaping  down 
the  clay  embankment,  he  extended  his  hands  to  her, 
climbing  at  once  into  the  automobile. 

"I  knew  you'd  be  waiting  for  me !'  he  said,  starting 
the  machine. 

"And  I  knew  that  you  would  come,  even  though  the 
men  at  the  wreck  told  me  you  couldn't.  You  always 
do  the  things  that  other  men  can't  do,  or  are  too  timid 
to  do,  and  I  knew  it  would  be  so  this  time." 

"It  was  very  simple,"  Frank  answered.  "There 
were  some  empty  fiat  cars  on  the  New  London  siding. 
I  climbed  upon  these,  took  a  good  run  along  them  as 
if  I  was  going  at  a  hurdle  when  the  wrecking-train 
came  along,  and  jumped  from  them  to  a  flat  car  of  the 


Inza  to  the  Rescue. 

train.  It  was  a  lively  jump,  but  I  made  it.  The  con- 
ductor didn't  want  me  there,  and  said  I  oughtn't  to  be 
there,  and  some  other  things,  but  he  was  in  too  big 
a  hurry  to  stop  and  put  me  off,  as  I  knew  he  would 
be,  and  I  came  right  through  at  a  double  quick,  with- 
out further  trouble." 

He  gave  the  lever  a  touch  and  sent  the  automobile 
forward  at  its  highest  speed. 

"Father?"  he  questioned  simply. 

"I'm  sure  that  Santenel  is  with  him!  I  shouldn't 
have  thought  anything  about  it,  if  you  hadn't  told  me 
that  awful  story  of  the  Hindu.  I  saw  this  man,  and 
some  way  I  was  sure  he  was  the  Hindu,  for  you'll 
recollect  that  I  saw  the  Hindu  at  the  charity  fair. 
Well,  I  followed  him  along  Chapel  Street,  saw  him 
enter  the  New  Haven  House,  and  heard  him  ask  to 
have  his  card  taken  up  to  Charles  Conrad  Merriwell! 
Perhaps  I  was  a  bit  bold  in  following  him  into  the 
New  Haven  House,  but  I  thought  it  a  thing  I  ought  to 
do,  and  there  was  no  time  to  get  any  one  else  to  do  it. 

"Before  venturing  to  send  you  the  telegram  I  hired 
a  boy  on  the  street  to  go  again  to  the  New  Haven 
House  and  ask  the  proprietor  if  Mr.  Merriwell  could 
be  seen,  and  he  came  back  and  said  that  Mr.  Merriwell 
was  busily  engaged  and  was  to  be  seen  by  no  one. 
Then  I  sent  you  the  telegram,  and  as  soon  as  I  got  your 
answer  I  started  for  this  point  with  your  automobile." 

For  a  time  there  was  nothing  heard  but  the  br-r-r-r-r 
of  the  automobile,  as  it  took  the  straight  road  before 
it  like  a  racer  under  Frank's  manipulation.  He  had 


158  Inza  to  the  Rescue. 

an  inner  feeling  that  Inza's  keen  eyes  had  seen  and 
perceived  the  truth,  and  that  his  father  was  in  the 
greatest  peril  of  his  life. 


The  feeling  that  makes  a  cat  love  to  toy  with  a 
mouse  which  is  helpless  in  its  power  and  half-uncon- 
scious rilled  the  soul  of  Dion  Santenel. 

"If  Frank  Merriwell  should  learn  that  I  am  here 
he  could  not  reach  me,  unless  he  has  the  wings  of  a 
bird!"  the  villain  chuckled,  as  he  looked  at  Charles 
Conrad  Merriwell.  "If  he  should  telegraph  Selton 
Dirk,  Dirk  is  in  New  York  City,  sent  there  on  a  mis- 
sion by  one  of  my  trusted  agents.  If  any  ordinary 
policeman  should  attempt  to  touch  me,  I  should  simply 
laugh  at  him  and  make  the  fellow  go  away  feeling 
worse  than  a  sneak  for  having  suspected  me.  Every- 
thing has  worked  to  my  hand.  Frank  is  away,  and 
can't  even  dream  of  the  plot  that  sent  him  away,  and 
I  am  free  to  work  my  will !" 

Then  he  began  again  to  talk  to  the  elder  Merriwell, 
speaking  in  the  droning  way  he  sometimes  delighted 
to  affect,  again  playing  with  the  helpless  man  like 
the  cat  with  the  mouse.  By  and  by  he  took  up  the 
statement  which  Merriwell  had  prepared  at  his  dicta- 
tion, smilingly  read  it,  and  placed  it  on  the  table  in  a 
conspicuous  manner,  with  a  paper-weight  to  hold  it 
down. 

After  that,  he  looked  through  the  notes  bearing  the 
signature  of  Charles  Conrad  Merriwell,  ascertained 


Inza  to  the  Rescue.  159 

that  they  were  all  right  in  every  way  on  their  surface, 
and  tucked  them  away  in  an  inner  pocket  in  a  leather 
wallet. 

"Come !  It's  time  to  go !"  he  said,  speaking  to  Mer- 
riwell. 

Merriwell  aroused. 

"Yes?" 

"You  will  take  the  electric  car  at  this  corner  for 
the  boat  landings.  There  you  will  hire  a  boat  or  steal 
one,  row  out  a  half-mile  from  shore,  and  throw  your- 
self overboard  and  sink.  This  letter  on  the  table  will 
explain  to  the  world  why.  This  is  my  command. 
You  will  do  it.  You  obeyed  me  in  the  mine  and  fired 
the  blast  that  shut  you  in;  you  must  obey  me  as  im- 
plicitly in  this.  I  will  it,  and  my  will  is  now  your 
law.  Go!" 

His  face  had  assumed  a  wolfish  look,  and  his  eyes 
were  again  shooting  out  their  red  gleams. 

"Yes!" 

Merriwell  made  the  promise  and  rose  to  his  feet  to 
carry  it  out,  as  completely  subjected  to  the  will  of  the 
man  before  him  as  if  he  were  an  automaton. 

"But  I  will  go  first,"  said  Santenel,  speaking  to 
Charles  Merriwell.  "Ten  minutes  after  I  am  gone 
you  will  leave  this  house  and  carry  out  my  instructions. 
Good-by!" 

"Victory  is  mine!"  chuckled  Santenel,  as  he  turned 
to  leave  the  room. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  whirr  of  wheels  and  the 
br-r-r-r  of  an  automobile  in  the  street,  which  stopped 


160  Inza  to  the  Rescue. 

in  front  of  the  house.  A  second  later  and  a  knock 
sounded  on  the  door. 

Santenel  muttered  a  malediction,  but  walked  to  the 
door  and  opened  it. 

The  colored  boy  stood  there,  and  with  him  Frank 
Merriwell. 

Before  Santenel  could  recover  from  his  surprise  and 
mentally  resume  his  pretended  character  of  "Fisher 
Stokes,"  tLe  broker,  Frank  crowded  through  the  door- 
way and  stood  before  him. 

"You  scoundrel!"  Frank  hissed,  and  with  a  swoop 
of  his  hand  he  tore  away  the  false  mustache  and  im- 
perial. 

With  a  cry  of  defeat  and  fear  Santenel  leaped  at 
Frank,  and  was  stricken  to  the  floor,  where  he  lay  in  a 
senseless  heap. 

Frank  Merriwell  had  come  in  time! 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   FALL   0^   SANTENEL. 

With  difficulty  Frank  Merriwell  held  himself  in 
check.  He  was  in  a  towering  rage,  and  the  impulse 
was  strong  in  him  to  hurl  himself  on  the  prostrate 
form  of  Dion  Santenel.  He  felt  an  awful  thirst  for 
the  life  of  the  wretch  who  lay  on  the  floor  before 
him,  sent  there  by  a  mighty  blow  of  his  fist.  Twice 
before  had  such  a  feeling  come  to  him — once  when  he 
struggled  with  Sport  Harris  on  the  rotten  bridge  in 
England,  and  again  when  he  overthrew  Santenel  in 
Louisville  and  held  his  life,  as  it  were,  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand. 

"You  miserable  whelp!"  he  panted,  looking  with 
loathing  and  contempt  into  the  face  of  the  man  who 
had  sought  his  father's  ruin  and  death. 

He  cast  a  quick  glance  at  his  father,  who  had 
dropped  down,  crouching,  into  the  chair  by  the  marble- 
topped  center-table. 

Though  Santenel  had  now  entirely  recovered  con- 
sciousness, he  lay  cowering  on  the  floor,  in  deadly  fear 
of  the  young  athlete  whose  wrath  he  had  felt.  The 
fierce  fire  had  gone  out  of  his  shining  black  eyes,  to  be 
replaced  by  a  gleam  that  was  full  of  subdued  and 
cowardly  hate. 

Then  he  recollected  that  he  had  come  to  the  room, 


1 62  The  Fall  of  Santenel. 

not  in  the  person  of  Dion  Santenel,  or  Brandon  Drood, 
or  even  of  Hector  King,  but  as  "Fisher  Stokes,"  the 
mining  speculator  and  stock-broker  of  Denver. 

"You  are  making  a  mistake !"  he  cried  quickly.  "I 
don't  know  why  you  knocked  me  down  as  you  did. 
I'd  have  you  know,  sir,  that  I  am  Fisher  Stokes,  of 
Denver,  stock-broker  and  mining  speculator.  And 
I  shall  have  you  arrested  for  this  insult  and  for  your 
unwarranted  blow!" 

"Bah !"  Frank  sneered.    "Put  these  on,  will  you  ?" 

He  snatched  up  the  false  mustache  and  imperial 
which  he  had  torn  from  the  man's  face  but  a  few  mo- 
ments before,  and  flung  them  at  him. 

Santenel  sank  back,  pale  and  trembling.  He  saw 
that  further  lies  and  threats  would  not  serve  him.  The 
fire  died  out  of  his  eyes,  to  be  replaced  by  a  look  of 
pleading.  He  glanced  toward  the  door. 

Frank  turned  to  the  colored  boy,  who  stood  dumb 
with  amazement,  and  sent  him  with  a  hasty  message 
to  Inza,  who  was  waiting  below.  The  boy  vanished, 
diving  for  the  elevator  with  comical  speed. 

Santenel  rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  longingly  at  one 
of  the  closed  windows. 

"You  can't  go  out  by  the  door,"  said  Frank,  "and 
if  you  pitch  yourself  out  of  that  window  it  will  be 
pretty  sure  to  save  the  hangman  an  unpleasant  job." 

Santenel  groped  weakly  to  a  chair. 

"You  are  making  a  great  mistake,"  he  quiveringly 
urged.  "On  my  honor,  Mr.  Merriwell,  you  are  making 
a  dreadful  mistake!" 


The  Fall  of  Santenel.  163 

"Release  him  from  that  spell!"  Frank  ordered,  in 
so  commanding  a  tone  that  Santenel  fairly  leaped  in 
his  chair. 

"Yes,  yes !"  the  hypnotist  replied,  though  he  wanted 
to  deny  that  the  elder  Merriwell  was  under  any  spell. 
But  he  dicj  not  dare  to  do  this ;  and,  with  a  word  and 
a  few  passes  of  his  long,  thin  hands,  he  removed  the 
strange  influence  under  which  Charles  Conrad  Merri- 
well had  been  laboring. 

The  change  produced  was  remarkable.  The  face  re- 
sumed its  accustomed  appearance  and  the  eyes  held 
their  natural  light,  except  that  Mr.  Merriwell  seemed 
to  be  stupefied  by  what  he  beheld.  He  recognized 
Frank,  but  it  was  clear  that  he  did  not  recognize  the 
man  who  was  retreating  from  him  and  who  soon  again 
crouched  uncomfortably  in  the  chair. 

"It's  all  right,  father.  This  is  our  mutual  friend, 
Santenel." 

Frank  said  this  with  an  unnatural  and  bitter  laugh. 

"Our  mutual  friend  has  struck  again,  and  again  he 
has  failed!" 

The  elder  Merriwell  could  hardly  credit  the  words. 
He  recalled  the  entrance  into  the  room  of  "Fisher 
Stokes,"  the  pretended  stock-broker.  The  man  who 
crouched  and  whined  in  the  chair  wore  the  same  cloth- 
ing, yet  the  mustache  and  imperial  and  the  jaunty  busi- 
ness air  were  gone.  What  had  occurred  after  the 
man's  entrance  and  their  talk  of  a  few  moments 
Charles  Merriwell  could  not  remember.  The  interval 
was  now  a  blank  to  him. 


1 64  The  Fall  of  Santenel. 

Yet,  with  eyes  enlightened  by  Frank's  words,  he 
perceived  that  this  was  really  "Fisher  Stokes,"  minus 
the  mustache  and  imperial,  which  he  now  saw  on  the 
floor;  and  Frank  had  assured  him  that  the  man  v/as 
his  bitter  and  deadly  enemy,  Dion  Santenel. 

Charles  Merriwell's  brain  whirled  when  he  tried  to 
comprehend  this  transition  and  the  peril  he  had  been 
in.  A  sense  of  terror  rilled  him,  giving  to  his  face, 
under  its  crown  of  white  hair,  a  pitiful  look. 

"It  must  be  as  you  say!"  he  managed  to  articulate. 

Santenel  was  racking  his  clever  brain  for  something 
that  would  stand  him  in  stead  now,  and  trying  at  the 
same  time  to  still  the  trembling  of  his  limbs  and  sub- 
due the  fear  that  filled  him. 

"I  am  Santenel,"  he  gaspingly  confessed.  "But 
there  is  a  great  mistake." 

He  saw  the  "confession"  which  he  had  forced 
Charles  Merriwell  to  write,  lying,  as  he  had  meant  to 
leave  it,  on  the  marble-topped  table.  He  put  out  his 
hand,  hoping  he  might  be  able  to  secure  it  unobserved. 

Frank  Merriwell  saw  the  movement,  and,  advan- 
cing to  the  table,  secured  the  writing,  his  face  darken- 
ing as  he  read  it  over,  for  it  revealed  in  all  its  details 
Santenel's  cruel  plan  against  his  father.  Nevertheless, 
Frank  put  it  quietly  in  his  pocket.  He  had  regained 
control  of  himself. 

Santenel  sat  with  fear-filled  face  and  blue  lips,  star- 
ing at  him. 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  me?"  he  asked, 


The  Fall  of  Santenel.  165 

seeing  that  further  efforts  at  evasion  and  concealment 
were  useless. 

There  was  a  rap  on  the  door,  followed  instantly  by 
entering  footsteps. 

"This!"  said  Frank. 

Two  officers  had  come  in,  sent  by  Inza  in  response 
to  the  request  conveyed  to  her  by  the  colored  boy. 
Santenel  rose,  after  another  hesitating  glance  at  the 
closed  windows.  Then  his  coolness  returned  to  him. 
He  advanced  toward  the  officers. 

"I  am  informed  that  you  have  been  sent  for  to 
place  me  under  arrest.  I  demand  to  know  with  what 
I  am  charged,  for  I  have  committed  no  crime.  You 
have  no  right  to  seize  me  without  a  proper  warrant, 
merely  on  complaint  of  this  person!" 

The  smaller  officer  smiled  and  produced  a  paper, 

"We  have  a  warrant,"  he  said.  "It  was  sworn  out 
by  a  young  lady,  Miss  Inza  Burrage,  who  charges 
that  you  cut  the  balloon-rope  on  the  day  of  the  Yale- 
Carlisle  football-game,  with  the  intention  of  causing 
her  death  and  the  death  of  Charles  Conrad  Merriwell, 
who  was  in  the  balloon  with  her.  You  will  see,  there- 
fore, that  we  can  do  nothing  but  go  ahead,  and  we 
place  you  under  arrest." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
FORCING  HIS  ENEMY'S  HAND. 

Frank  Merriwell  took  his  way  thoughtfully  toward 
the  rooms  of  Dade  Morgan,  whither  Dade  had  gone 
but  a  moment  before.  Dion  Santenel  lay  in  prison, 
having  been  committed  to  jail  that  afternoon. 

When  Frank  rapped  on  the  door  of  Morgan's  room, 
the  freshman  calmly  invited  him  to  come  in.  He  was 
sitting  on  his  trunk,  with  various  articles  scattered 
about  in  confusion.  Appearances  indicated  that  he 
had  contemplated  a  hasty  flight  from  New  Haven. 

"Not  going  to  leave  us?"  Frank  asked,  dropping 
into  the  chair  to  which  Morgan  pointed. 

"No !    What  made  you  think  so  ?" 

"This  array,  or,  rather,  disarray." 

"Merely  getting  some  things  together  for  the 
laundry." 

He  smiled  in  his  pleasant  way  and  really  was  so  cool 
that  Frank  could  not  help  admiring  him. 

"I  think  I'll  close  the  door,"  said  Frank,  stepping 
over  and  shutting  it.  "I  came  up  for  a  little  talk." 

Dade  did  not  get  off  the  trunk. 

"It  is  a  bit  cool  in  here.  I  ought  to  have  done 
that  myself.  You'll  pardon  me." 

"Perhaps  you  can  guess  what  I  want  to  say?" 

"I   suppose  it's   something  about  that  polo-game. 


Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand.         167 

I'm  free  to  admit  that  I  wanted  the  other  fellows  to 
beat,  Merriwell,  chiefly  because  I  don't  like  certain 
members  of  your  team.  I  hope  the  fact  that  I  bet 
on  the  other  team  doesn't  stick  in  your  crop?" 

"No;  I  didn't  intend  to  talk  of  the  polo-game.  As 
for  that  rascally  goal-tend  who  struck  Dick  Starbright 
on  the  head  and  laid  him  out,  the  law  will  take  care 
of  him.  Of  course,  you  had  nothing  to  do  with 
that?" 

Dade  flushed. 

"It's  an  insult  to  insinuate  such  a  thing,  Merriwell !" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  then,  if  I  am  wrong.  I  have 
no  means  of  knowing;  but  I'm  fully  aware  of  the 
fact  that  you  don't  like  Starbright — and  you  would 
do  such  a  thing!" 

Dade  lowered  his  eyelids  and  turned  over  a  pair 
of  golf -stockings  which  lay  on  the  trunk-lid  beside 
him.  He  feared  what  was  coming  and  shrank  from 
it. 

"I  didn't  come  up  here  for  polite  talk,  Morgan," 
Frank  went  remorselessly  on.  "We're  alone  here?" 

"Quite  alone." 

He  had  thrown  down  the  stockings  and  now  turned 
squarely  toward  Frank. 

"You  know  that  Hector  King  is  in  prison!" 

Dade  paled  and  perceptibly  weakened. 

"I  don't  know  the  man.  I  heard  that  you  had  sent 
somebody  to  jail  this  afternoon,  but  I  thought  it  was 
another  name." 

"We  want  to  be  quite  plain,  Morgan.    A  man  was 


1 68          Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand. 

jailed  here  to-day.  He  is  your  friend,  Hector  King, 
alias  Dion  Santenel,  alias  a  dozen  other  things  prob- 
ably. What  you  and  he  have  plotted  against  me  and 
my  father  I  don't  know;  but  I  know  of  some  things 
— enough  to  send  him  'up/  I  am  sure.  As  I  said,  I 
will  be  quite  frank  with  you.  It  is  my  way.  I  can't 
prove  it,  but  I  am  sure  that  all  that  skyrockety  bet- 
ting, on  money  which  I  believe  you  furnished,  was 
done  to  get  me  and  my  polo-team  out  of  New  Haven 
to-day.  I  can't  prove  it,  and  may  not  be  able  to  prove 
it,  unless  Santenel  makes  a  confession  that  you  did 
that  to  give  him  opportunity  to  work  his  plans  against 
my  father." 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about !" 
Dade  protested. 

"I  can't  prove  those  things,  but  I  think  I  have  col- 
lected enough  evidence  of  various  kinds  against  you 
to  convince  the  faculty  that  you  are  not  a  proper  per- 
son to  be  a  student  in  Yale.  Perhaps  I  can't  put  you 
in  jail,  but  I  can  send  you  headlong  out  of  college." 

Dade  whitened  still  more. 

"And  that  is  what  you  intend  to  do  ?"  he  demanded, 
almost  fiercely. 

"I  don't  know.  I  have  as  yet  reached  no  conclu- 
sion. But  I  am  here  now  to  ask  you  to  tell  me  why 
you  have  struck  at  me?  I  see  that  there  is  a  connec- 
tion between  you  and  Hector  King,  alias  Santenel. 
When  you  entered  Yale,  at  the  beginning  of  this  year, 
you  had  not,  so  far  as  I  know,  ever  seen  me  before. 
At  once  you  became  my  bitterest  enemy.  These  things 


Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand.          169 

are  not  done  without  reason.    You  had  some  powerful 
reason." 

«T » 

Merriwell  cut  short  the  protest. 

"You  told  me  once,  you  will  remember,  that  you 
were  my  enemy.  I  did  not  ask  why,  at  the  time. 
I  can  see  why  enmity  might  grow  up  between  you  and 
such  a  man  as  Starbright — might  grow  up,  I  say. 
Yours  against  me  did  not  grow  up ;  it  was  full  grown 
at  the  start,  and  without  apparent  reason.  As  to 
whether  or  not  I  use  the  proofs  against  you  which 
I  have,  and  force  your  expulsion  from  Yale,  depends 
in  a  great  measure  on  your  answer  to  my  question: 
Why  are  you  my  enemy?" 

Dade  Morgan  sat  still,  but  waited  a  moment  before 
replying. 

"If  I  tell  you,  Merriwell,  you  will  not  believe  me!" 

"If  you  tell  me  the  truth,  I  will  believe  you.  When 
I  hear  your  story  I  shall  know  whether  it  is  the  truth 
or  not.  You  won't  be  able  to  deceive  me  in  the  mat- 
ter." 

"Why,  you  have  a  multitude  of  enemies  in  Yale!" 
Dade  evaded. 

"But  not  one  who  was  my  enemy  before  he  knew 
me  or  saw  me;  not  one  who  came  to  the  college  and 
was  my  deadly  enemy  with  no  seeming  cause  what- 
ever. It  has  not  been  jealousy  on  your  part,  for  there 
can  be  no  real  ground  for  jealousy  between  a  senior 
and  a  freshman.  Most  of  my  enemies  dislike  me 


170         Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand. 

merely  because  of  jealousy.  It  hasn't  been  so  with 
you." 

Again  Morgan  began  to  evade  and  shuffle.  Frank 
took  his  watch  from  his  pocket  and  consulted  it. 

"I've  a  good  many  things  to  attend  to  this  evening. 
I  have  asked  my  question.  Suit  yourself  about  an- 
swering it  I  will  not  say  that  any  answer  you  can 
give  will  keep  me  from  putting  my  proofs  in  the  hands 
of  the  faculty.  Perhaps  it  will.  I  haven't  yet  made 
up  my  mind." 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell,  but  if  I  tell  you  all,  will 
you  keep  mum?" 

"I  haven't  any  promises  to  make.  I  hoped  that  you 
would  be  able  to  say  something  in  defense  of  your- 
self which  would  incline  me  to  let  the  matter  drop. 
Your  sins  have  been  largely  against  me,  Morgan. 
In  other  respects  you  have  been  a  capable,  even  an  ad- 
mirable college  man.  You  have,  I'm  told,  made  good 
progress  in  your  classes.  You  have,  for  a  freshman, 
won  wonderful  distinction  in  the  field  of  athletics. 
You  have  gathered  round  you  many  friends — not  of 
a  class  I  admire — yet  a  numerous  following.  You 
are  recognized  as  a  freshman  leader.  This  shows  that 
you  have  uncommon  abilities.  If  you  should  use  your 
undoubted  abilities  in  a  proper  way,  a  great  future 
may  lie  before  you.  It  might  be  a  great  wrong  for  me 
to  set  anything  in  your  pathway.  I  have  asked  you 
a  question.  You  may  be  able  to  show  that  you  are 
not  so  black  as  appearances  indicate!" 

Morgan  saw  that  "confession  and  avoidance,"  as 


Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand.         171 

the  lawyers  phrase  it,  was  the  only  safe  course  left 
open  to  him. 

"Well,  it  isn't  much,  Merriwell,"  he  said,  assuming 
a  show  of  frankness. 

"Whatever  it  is?"  Frank  invited. 

"I  did  come  to  Yale  as  your  enemy — your  enemy 
before  I  ever  saw  you!  That  sounds  strange  and  even 
mysterious,  but  you'll  see  that  there  is  no  mystery 
about  it;  for  the  man  you  have  put  in  prison  is  my 
uncle!" 

Frank  showed  his  surprise. 

"I  thought  you  were  in  his  pay !"  he  admitted. 

"Not  in  his  pay.  If  I  disliked  and  even  hated  you, 
he  taught  me  to.  He  taught  me,  schooled  me  to  hate 
you  and  your  father — your  father  far  worse  than  you. 
For,  as  perhaps  you  know,  your  father  pursued  my 
uncle  nearly  over  the  world,  trying  to  ruin  him  or 
kill  him.  When  he  made  a  fortune  in  New  York, 
speculating,  your  father  took  it  from  him  by  counter- 
speculations  which  were  aimed  solely  at  him.  He  lost 
the  Ragged  Queen  Mine,  and  your  father  has  taken 
an  immense  fortune  out  of  it.  But  for  your  father  he 
would  to-day  be  a  wealthy  man,  and  I,  as  his  only  heir, 
would  be  the  heir  to  a  splendid  fortune.  As  it  is,  he 
has  but  a  beggarly  pittance.  He  has  been  forced  to 
save  and  scrimp  in  many  ways  to  get  money.  He 
borrowed  the  money  with  which  he  sent  me  here  to 
Yale,  and  I  am  now  living  on  money  which  he  fur- 
nishes me.  He  has  been  able  at  times  to  get  hold  of 
and  make  use  of  considerable  sums,  but  mostly  by 


172          Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand. 

borrowing.  If  the  truth  were  known  and  payment 
forced,  he  would  to-day  be  a  pauper." 

Frank  could  see  that  Dade  was  telling  the  truth  in 
the  main.  He  believed  that  the  story  contained  ex- 
aggerations, and  some  concealments,  but  he  saw  that 
its  thread  was  true. 

"That  makes  a  good  many  things  plain  that  were 
quite  dark  to  me  before,"  Frank  admitted. 

Dade  was  quick  to  catch  at  the  hope  thus  held  out. 

"If  our  positions  had  been  reversed,  Merriwell,  I 
think  you  would  have  been  as  bitter  against  me  as  I 
have  been  against  you.  It  isn't  pleasant  to  feel  that 
money  and  fortune  which  rightfully  are  mine  are  in 
the  possession  of  some  one  else." 

"That  will  do,  Morgan.  I  haven't  said  that  I  ac- 
cept your  story  without  reservation,  and  you  will  not 
be  able  to  win  me  to  your  way  of  thinking  by  slander- 
ing my  father.  I  know  the  history  of  that  case  much 
better  than  you  do." 

"No  offense  intended,"  Morgan  urged.  "I  have 
given  you  the  story  as  it  was  told  to  me.  It  explains 
why  Mr.  Santenel  is  so  bitter  against  you,  and  why 
I  have  done  the  things  that  you  complain  of.  But  I 
have  never  struck  at  you  criminally." 

Dade's  face  was  firm  as  he  made  the  claim,  even 
though  it  was  under  Frank's  searching  glance. 

"You  look  as  if  you  don't  believe  that,. Merriwell; 
but  it  is  true,  every  word  of  it.  I  have  tried  to  injure 
you,  I  will  admit,  but  in  legitimate  ways." 

"Are  there  any  legitimate  ways  of  injuring  a  man?" 


Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand.          173 

"Well,  you  understand  what  I  mean!  I  tried  to 
organize  Yale  sentiment  against  you.  You  were  flying 
pretty  high  when  I  came  here,  and  I  thought  to  take 
you  down." 

The  smile  had  come  back  to  his  face,  and  with  it 
an  air  of  almost  defiant  courage. 

"And  failed!"  said  Frank. 

"Well,  yes;  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  admit  that  I 
didn't  accomplish  just  the  things  I  intended." 

"Perhaps  you  think  that  the  things  you  attempted 
against  me  were  allowable;  but  the  faculty  will  not 
think  so,  if  I  go  before  them  with  the  proofs." 

Dade  wavered  again. 

"I  hope  you  won't  do  that." 

"It  will  depend  on  you  somewhat.  I  understand  the 
situation  now,  even  though  I  don't  accept  everything 
you  have  said  as  absolute  truth.  I  will  say  quite 
frankly  that  the  villain  back  of  you  is  a  greater  villain 
than  you  are.  He  has  reached  the  end  of  his  rope. 
Perhaps  his  fall  will  serve  as  a  lesson." 

"You're  too  hard  on  me!"  Morgan  insisted.  "I 
have  failed  in  my  efforts  against  you.  Santenel  has 
even  charged  me  with  being  your  friend  and  playing 
into  your  hands.  Well,  there  are  things  about  you, 
Merriwell,  that  I  like,  that  any  one  must  like!  I'm 
willing  to  call  it  a  truce,  if  you  say  so?" 

Merriwell  arose  to  go. 

"As  I  said  at  the  first,  I  haven't  much  time  to  spare. 
If  you  understand  your  own  interest,  there  will  be  a 
truce  on  your  part.  As  for  myself,  I  have  never  done 


174         Forcing  His  Enemy's  Hand. 

anything  to  injure  you.  What  I  may  do  hereafter 
will  depend  on  you." 

Dade  Morgan  scowled  at  the  door  after  Merriwell's 
departure. 

"It's  a  good  thing  that  he's  squeamish.  If  he  had 
the  disposition  of  some  men,  he  would  kick  me  out  of 
Yale  without  a  word." 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

DASHLEIGH    IS   LATE   AGAIN. 

The  snow  came  again,  covering  the  levels  and  the 
hills  and  the  icy  expanses  of  the  lakes.  The  morning 
after  its  fall,  Bert  Dashleigh  appeared  in  the  campus 
on  skies,  and  was  promptly  challenged  by  numerous 
freshmen  friends  for  various  races. 

"Hello,  old  ski-zicks!"  said  Ready,  coming  on  the 
scene.  "I'll  race  you  on  those  things.  No,  I  don't 
mean  just  that,  for  you'll  want  to  wear  those.  I 
mean  I'll  race  you  on  another  pair." 

"You'll  wear  the  other  pair?" 

"Yes.  I'll  wear  a  pair  and  you'll  wear  a  pair, 
and  we'll  race.  The  instructor  told  me  yesterday  that 
my  exuberant  English  needed  pruning.  He  seemed  to 
think  that  was  what  I  came  to  Yale  for.  And  that's 
strange,  for  I  thought  I  came  here  to  study  football." 

He  was  examining  the  skies  as  he  talked. 

"I  thought  you  came  here  to  torment  freshmen!" 
Bert  mildly  ventured. 

"Well,  yes,  come  to  think  of  it,  soph  life  would 
hardly  be  worth  living  if  it  wasn't  for  you  freshies. 
But  I'll  take  pity  on  you  and  overlook  the  wide  differ- 
ence in  our  stations  and  condescend  to  race  with  you 
on  skies  this  afternoon,  or  this  morning,  or  any  other 
old  time.  I've  a  pair  in  my  room.  The  fellow  who 


176  Dashleigh  is  Late  Again. 

took  them  up  there  thought  they  needed  pruning  by 
the  time  he  got  them  through  the  doorway,  and 
stacked  them  up  against  the  wall." 

There  are  few  more  attractive  winter  sports  than  a 
run  into  the  country  on  Norwegian  skies,  especially 
if  the  snow  is  in  good  condition  for  the  sport,  and 
there  are  hills  for  swift  descent. 

Ready  and  Dashleigh  made  a  ski-ing  trip  that  after- 
noon which  yielded  sport,  pleasure,  and  healthful  ex- 
ercise. 

"I  thought  likely  you  had  something  up  your  sleeve 
when  you  challenged  me  this  morning,"  Dashleigh 
chattered,  as  they  were  on  their  homeward  way.  "I 
thought  if  you  were  with  me,  though,  it  would  be 
hard  for  you  to  duplicate  any  such  trick  as  you  sophs 
played  on  Starbright  the  other  day.  Say,  that  was  too 
bad,  billing  him  as  the  'Giant  of  the  Wheel,'  when  he 
made  his  bicycle  trip  to  Guilford !" 

"A  freshman  has  no  right  to  presume  to  criticize  a 
sophomore,"  said  Ready. 

But  Ready  was  not  like  most  of  the  sophomores. 
He  was  so  different  from  the  other  members  of  his 
class  that,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  an  inveterate 
practical  joker,  so  far  as  the  freshmen  were  concerned, 
the  harassed  freshmen  liked  him  surprisingly  well.  In 
their  eyes  he  stood  among  the  sophomores  pretty 
much  as  Frank  Merriwell  stood  among  the  seniors, 
though  the  two  were  as  unlike  as  is  imaginable. 

There  was  only  one  incident  on  the  trip  that  seemed 
worthy  of  an  afterthought,  and  it  was  after-events 


Dashleigh  is  Late  Again.  177 

that  caused  it  to  be  remembered.  Not  far  from  the 
suburbs,  as  they  were  ski-ing  slowly  in,  being  some- 
what tired,  a  slightly  built  young  man,  with  a  hand- 
some face  and  dark  eyes,  approached  them  and  asked 
about  the  ice-hockey  game  which  was  to  be  played  on 
Lake  Whitney  soon. 

"Oh,  that's  the  match  Merriwell  is  getting  up !"  said 
Ready. 

Then  he  gave  the  desired  information,  and  the 
fellows  on  skies  continued  on  their  way. 

"Had  a  great  time!"  Bert  declared,  when  he  in- 
vaded the  rooms  and  found  there  his  chum,  Starbright. 
"Ought  to  have  been  along.  Ready  is  a  corker!" 

"No  freshman  tricks,  then?" 

"Not  a  trick!" 

He  threw  himself  down  on  the  lounge. 

"I'm  to  wind  up  the  day  by  attending  that  'feed* 
to-night  at  Mrs.  Whitlock's  on  Whitney  Avenue.  I 
wish  you'd  received  an  invitation,  for  we  could  go 
together." 

"You  mean  I'd  go  first,  and  an  hour  later  you  would 
come  tagging  along  behind." 

"Now,  see  here!  Don't  throw  that  at  me  any 
more.  I  know  I'm  slow,  but  the  fault  hasn't  always 
been  mine.  When  I  was  late  at  Thurlow's,  it  was  the 
fault  of  my  watch.  The  confounded  idiot  who  over- 
hauled it  for  me  ruined  it." 

"And  that  other  time  at  Mrs.  Throckmorton's  ?" 

Bert  picked  up  his  guitar  and  began  to  strum  it. 
Finally  he  put  it  down. 


178  Dashleigh  is  Late  Again. 

"Confound  you!  Why  do  you  look  at  me  that 
way?  If  reasons  were  as  plenty  as  blackberries,  I 
wouldn't  give  you  a  single  one.  I  know  I've  been  late 
a  good  many  times,  but  it  will  not  happen  this  eve- 
ning." 

Dashleigh  was  fast  earning  for  himself  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  champion  procrastinator  of  Yale; 
not  because  he  desired  to  be  slow,  but  through  lazi- 
ness and  his  inability  to  tear  himself  away  from  the 
particular  enjoyment  in  hand.  For  this  reason,  when- 
ever he  began  to  strum  and  sing,  which  was  often,  he 
was  likely  to  forget  there  were  such  things  as  lessons 
and  classes.  When  talking  to  a  group  on  the  campus, 
he  was  slow  to  tear  himself  away,  if  the  subject  of  the 
conversation  was  interesting.  If  he  made  a  oall  which 
he  enjoyed,  he  was  almost  sure  to  prolong  it  beyond 
endurance.  Yet  he  was  withal  so  light-hearted  and 
jolly,  so  genuinely  unselfish,  and  so  pleasant  a  com- 
panion, that  he  was  universally  liked. 

"I'll  be  on  time  this  evening,"  he  said;  then  he  put 
away  the  guitar  and  dived  into  some  books,  suddenly 
remembering  that  there  was  a  great  quantity  of  un- 
learned lore  which  it  behooved  him  to  stow  in  his  brain 
without  delay  if  he  did  not  want  to  be  dropped  or  get 
an  awfully  low  rating. 

Then  he  proceeded  to  forget  all  about  the  "feed" 
at  Mrs.  Whitlock's,  and  did  not  remember  it  again 
until  nearly  eight  o'clock  that  evening.  It  is  probable 
he  would  not  have  recalled  it  then  but  for  a  remark 
made  by  Jeffreys. 


Dashleigh  is  Late  Again.  179 

Jeffreys  was  a  freshman,  who,  with  other  fresh- 
men, had  dropped  into  Bert's  rooms  for  a  jolly  hour 
or  so  that  evening,  after  Dick  Starbright  had  gone  out. 
Jeffreys  was  "a  jolly  dog,"  and  so  likewise  was  each 
of  his  companions,  and  Bert  was  having  such  a  good 
time  that  the  minutes  and  the  hours  slipped  by  almost 
unnoticed. 

"They'll  have  a  bang-up  time  at  Whitlock's !" 
Jeffreys  casually  remarked. 

Dashleigh  fairly  jumped  out  of  his  chair. 

"Gee!" 

"Who  stuck  a  pin  into  you?"  Jeffreys  asked. 

"Why,  I'm  billed  for  that  entertainment  to-night — 
myself  and  the  mandolin!" 

"Well,  if  that's  so,  old  man,  you'd  better  get  a  move 
on!"  Jeffreys  assured. 

But  Bert  was  not  listening  to  him.  He  had  thrown 
aside  the  instrument  and  was  dragging  out  a  dress 
suit. 

"If  you  will  excuse  me!'  he  panted.  "Forgot  all 
about  that  affair.  By  Jove!  what  will  they  think  of 
me?  And  I  told  Starbright  I'd  be  on  hand  to-night 
on  time  or  break  something.  Well,  there,  I've  kept 
my  word ;  for  I've  broken  that  button !" 

Then  Bert  began  to  "pitch  himself  into  his  clothes"  ... 
in  a  hurried  manner,  talking  all  the  time  and  bemoan-  4 
ing  the  fate  that  made  him  so  forgetful.     When  he 
was  dresseu.  in  what  he  considered  a  proper  manner, 
he  had  his  friends  "look  him  over"  to  see  that  he 
was  all  there;  bade  them  a  hasty  good  night,  and, 


i8o  Dashleigh  is  Late  Again. 

with  mandolin-case  in  hand,  went  out  of  the  room  like 
a  shot 

Finding  no  carriage  in  waiting  on  Chapel  Street, 
or  the  neighborhood,  he  hurried  on  and  was  soon  in  a 
car.  Suddenly  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  was  some- 
what hazy  as  to  the  street-number.  He  thought  he 
had  written  it  down  and  had  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and 
began  to  search  for  it,  until  he  remembered  that  he 
had  just  made  a  change  of  clothing. 

"It  was  surely  113,"  he  reflected.  "Yes,  that  was 
it" 

So  he  alighted  from  the  car  in  the  neighborhood 
of  what  he  supposed  was  the  right  number,  and,  after 
a  search,  approached  a  house  which  he  had  figured  out 
must  be  113.  To  his  amazement,  it  was  wrapped  in 
darkness.  Not  a  light  gleamed  in  it.  To  make  sure 
that  the  house  was  113,  he  entered  the  yard,  and, 
climbing  up  the  steps,  struck  a  match  and  looked  at  the 
number.  It  was  113. 

"Could  it  have  been  131?"  he  asked  himself,  and 
set  out  hastily  for  that  number. 

Having  reached  it,  he  stood  on  the  street  and  lis- 
tened There  were  lights  in  the  house,  but  no  sounds 
of  merriment,  such  as  he  fancied  befitted  such  a  gath- 
ering as  he  expected  to  find. 

"I'll  bet  my  next  month's  allowance  this  isn't  the 
place!"  he  groaned;  then  climbed  the  steps  and  timidly 
pulled  the  bell. 

After  a  little  wait  the  door  was  opened  by  a  servant, 


Dashleigh  is  Late  Again.  181 

and  in  answer  to  his  inquiry  he  was  told  that  Mr. 
Remy  lived  there,  not  Mrs.  Whitlock. 

"No,  I  can't  tell  you  where  the  Whitlocks  live/'  was 
the  answer  to  his  next  question.  "Perhaps  they  can 
tell  you  at  the  store  on  the  corner." 

Dashleigh  began  to  feel  desperately  uncomfortable. 
Nevertheless,  he  sprinted  with  his  mandolin  across 
to  the  store  on  the  corner. 

"Which  Whitlock?"  asked  the  proprietor,  some- 
what gruffly. 

"Whitlock,  of  Whitney  Avenue." 

"Well,  there  are  a  lot  of  Whitlocks  on  Whitney 
Avenue." 

Seeing  a  New  Haven  directory,  Bert  pulled  it  down 
and  began  feverishly  to  consult  its  pages.  He  stood 
aghast.  There  surely  were  a  "lot"  of  Whitlocks  on 
Whitney  Avenue.  He  tried  to  recall  the  first  name 
of  his  hostess. 

"Marcus,  Marcellene,  what  in  the  deuce  was  it? 
Seems  to  me  it  began  with  an  M!" 

But  there  were  no  Whitlocks  on  the  avenue  whose 
first  names  began  with  M.  He  looked  for  113,  131, 
213,  and  231,  and  everything  else  he  could  find  with 
the  combinations  of  the  figures  i  and  3.  When  he 
had  done  this  he  consulted  his  watch.  The  time  was 
eight-thirty,  and  the  dinner  was  to  be  given  at  eight. 

"I'm  up  against  it !"  he  groaned,  while  the  perspira- 
tion began  to  pour  out  on  his  face.  "Mrs.  Whitlock 
told  me  personally  that  she  wanted  me  to  be  there, 
and  it  doesn't  help  the  matter  to  think  that  she  wanted 


1 8s  Dashleigh  is  Late  Again. 

the  mandolin  worse  than  she  did  me.  They  depended 
on  me  chiefly  for  their  music,  and  here  am  I  and  the 
mandolin  lost  in  the  deserts  of  New  Haven,  with  not 
an  oasis  in  sight." 

Then  he  attacked  the  directory  again,  emerging 
from  its  pages  more  confused  than  ever.  He  even  be- 
gan to  think  that  perhaps  Mrs.  Marcellene  Whitlock 
did  not  live  on  Whitney,  but  on  some  other  thorough- 
fare, which  he  had  somehow  got  inexplicably  mixed 
with  that  of  the  well-known  avenue. 

"I'll  begin  to  think  soon  that  perhaps  the  name 
wasn't  Whitlock,  and  that  mine  isn't  Dashleigh !" 

He  slammed  down  the  directory  and  hurried  into 
the  street. 

Fortunately,  he  found  a  cab  there. 

"Take  me  to  all  the  Whitlocks  on  Whitney 
Avenue,"  he  begged.  "And  be  quick  about  it." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WHAT     DASHLEIGH     SAW. 

The  cab-driver  stared. 

"Well,  it's  this  way,  you  see,"  Bert  tarried  to  ex- 
plain. "I'm  overdue  at  some  Mrs.  Whitlock's — Mrs. 
Marcellene  Whitlock's,  I  think — for  dinner  this  eve- 
ning. Big  feed  and  all  that,  you  understand.  I  was 
to  have  been  there  at  eight  sharp,  and  it's  now  hurry- 
ing along  toward  nine.  I  don't  know  where  they  live 
— forgot  the  number — and  can't  find  it  in  the  direc- 
tory. The  best  way,  I  suppose,  is  to  take  them  in  turn 
and  chase  the  right  one  down  in  that  way.  Slow 
process,  but  I  don't  know  anything  better." 

The  driver  grinned. 

"P'r'aps  'twasn't  Whitlock !"  he  ventured.  "I  heard 
that  there  was  to  be  a  big  dinner  at  Mrs.  Warlock's, 
on  Whitney  Avenue,  this  evening." 

"Warlock?  Well,  that  may  be  the  name.  Hanged 
if  I  know!  Drive  me  to  Mrs.  Warlock's,  as  fast  as 
you  can." 

He  tumbled  himself  and  his  mandolin  into  the 
vehicle,  and  the  driver  springing  to  the  box,  they  were 
soon  rattling  away. 

There  was  a  "party"  at  Mrs.  Warlock's;  Bert  could 
not  doubt  that,  for  when  he  jumped  out  in  front  of  the 


184  What  Dashleigh  Saw. 

house  he  heard  the  unmistakable  sounds  of  merriment 
and  music. 

"Wait  a  minute!"  he  asked  of  the  driver,  and 
darted  up  the  steps. 

In  answer  to  his  rather  nervous  ring,  a  white- 
aproned  servant  appeared. 

"Yes,  we  have  a  party  here  to-night,"  was  the  an- 
swer to  his  question. 

Bert  felt  so  much  better  that  he  was  about  to  pass 
into  the  house,  when  the  driver  called  to  him: 

"Forgot  something,  didn't  you?" 

Bert  reddened  again;  and,  dropping  his  mandolin 
on  the  steps,  rushed  down  to  the  street  and  paid  for 
the  use  of  the  cab.  Then  he  tore  up  the  steps  again, 
and,  hurrying  past  the  wondering  servant,  left  his 
coat  and  hat  and  mandolin  in  the  hall,  and,  without 
further  questions,  strode  into  what  he  took  to  be  the 
dining-room. 

He  stopped  on  the  threshold  in  amazement.  Some 
couples  were  on  the  floor  dancing.  But  they  were  all 
strangers  to  him.  Not  a  face  there  had  he  ever  seen 
before.  The  hostess  came  forward  with  a  gracious 
smile. 

"I  guess  I  have  made  a  mistake,"  Bert  stammered. 
"I  am  due  at  a  dinner-party  at  Mrs.  Whitlock's." 

"This  is  Mrs.  Warlock's." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know;  but  I— I " 

He  was  retreating,  covered  with  confusion. 

"I  beg  your  pardon !"  he  managed  to  stammer,  thea 


What  Dashleigh  Saw.  185 

dived  for  the  outer  air,  picking  up  his  hat,  coat,  and 
mandolin  as  he  ran. 

The  cab  was  a  third  of  a  block  away,  but  it  stopped 
in  answer  to  the  bellowing  hail  which  he  gave  as  he 
jumped  down  the  steps,  and  turned  round  and  drove 
back. 

"Wasn't  the  place!"  said  Bert,  in  some  confusion, 
as  he  met  the  cab.  "We'll  have  to  make  another  try. 
It  was  a  Whitney — no,  I  mean  a  Whitlock  where  the 
party  is  that  I  am  trying  to  reach.  That  was  War- 
lock's." 

"I  told  you  it  was  Warlock's." 

"I  know  you  did.  Take  me  to  a  Whitney  Avenue 
of  Whitlocks,  I  mean  to  a  Whitlock's  of  Whitney 
Avenue." 

He  looked  at  his  watch  again  and  saw  that  the  hour 
was  nearly  nine. 

"Heavens!  I  won't  dare  to  tell  Dick  of  this!"  he 
thought,  as  he  again  stowed  himself  in  the  cab. 

The  driver  took  Bert  to  the  first  Whitlock's  of  that 
avenue,  and  it  was  not  the  place. 

"Go  right  ahead,"  Bert  commanded,  as  he  descended 
from  his  fruitless  search.  "We've  got  to  find  that  old 
number,  if  it's  in  New  Haven.  I'm  going  to  swear 
off  on  accepting  invitations  for  myself  and  the  man- 
dolin after  this." 

The  cab  tore  away  again,  finally  stopping  in  front 
of  a  house  which  Bert  felt  sure  could  not  be  the  place. 

"Yes,  it  must  be,"  he  thought,  "for  there  goes 
Amos  Belton,  of  the  juniors." 


1 86  What  Dashleigh  Saw. 

A  dark-complexioned  man,  who  looked  young  and 
springy  as  he  mounted  the  steps,  had  drawn  Bert's 
attention. 

"Just  wait  a  minute  till  I  know  that  I'm  right,"  Bert 
begged  of  the  driver,  for  he  had  learned  caution.  "I'll 
be  down  in  a  minute,  whether  it's  right  or  wrong!" 

Then  he  made  a  dash  for  the  house  that  he  hoped 
was  Mrs.  Marcellene  Whitlock's. 

The  young  man  whom  he  took  to  be  Amos  Belton 
disappeared  in  the  building;  and  Bert,  following 
closely  after  him,  gave  the  bell  a  tug. 

It  was  evidently  out  of  repair,  for  no  ring  could 
be  heard.  Time  was  too  precious  to  wait  long  in  un- 
certainty, and  when  no  one  appeared  in  answer  to  his 
rap,  he  pushed  open  the  door  and  looked  in. 

He  saw  a  light  in  a  room  at  the  farther  end  of  a 
long  hall;  and,  thinking  to  gain  information,  if  noth- 
ing else,  Bert  put  down  his  mandolin  and  advanced 
toward  the  illumination.  As  he  walked  along  the 
carpeted  hall,  his  feet  making  little  noise,  he  reached 
a  point  which  enabled  him  to  see  a  large  part  of  the 
interior  of  the  room. 

He  stopped  in  bewildered  surprise.  In  the  room 
was  one  whom  at  first  sight  he  took  to  be  Inza  Bur- 
rage.  In  a  bewildering  way  there  came  to  him  a 
memory  of  some  talk  he  had  heard  that  Amos  Belton, 
the  junior,  was  madly  in  love  with  Miss  Burrage. 
Then  it  occurred  to  him  that  this  must  be  Mrs.  Whit- 
lock's,  and  that  Inza  was  one  of  the  guests.  Perhaps 
Merriwell  was  there? 


What  Dashleigh  Saw.  187 

He  was  about  to  advance  and  speak,  when  the  per- 
son whom  he  took  to  be  Inza  turned  round  from  the 
mirror,  and  he  had  a  good  look  at  the  face.  It  was 
surprisingly  like  Inza's,  so  much  so  that  at  first  he 
was  sure  it  was  Inza ;  but  he  saw  a  moment  later  that, 
while  the  face  looked  so  much  like  that  of  Miss  Bur- 
rage,  there  was  a  distinct  difference.  It  was  as  if  some 
girl  had  tried  to  "make  up"  to  look  like  Inza. 

Then  his  bewilderment  increased,  for  it  came  to  him 
that  the  face  on  which  he  was  looking  was  that  of  the 
young  man  who  had  inquired  of  him  and  Ready  in  the 
suburbs  that  afternoon  when  the  hockey-match  was 
to  be  held. 

"It  can't  be,  though!"  Bert  gasped,  beginning  to 
feel  that  he  must  be  dreaming.  "Perhaps  this  is  the 
fellow's  sister.  Yes,  chat  must  be  it." 

He  had  unintentionally  made  a  noise,  whereupon 
the  girl — if  it  was  a  girl — turned,  saw  him  in  the  hall, 
and,  immediately  drawing  back,  disappeared. 

A  moment  later  he  heard  voices;  then  all  was  still. 

"I  guess  I've  lost  my  head  completely  this  evening!" 
thought  the  astounded  freshman.  "Anyway,  this  isn't 
Mrs.  Whitlock's;  and,  as  no  one  has  hurried  to  give 
me  the  glad  hand,  I'll  get  out  as  quickly  as  I  can." 

His  watch  told  him  that  it  was  after  nine  when  h^ 
again  reached  the  street,  where  he  found  the  cabman 
patiently  awaiting  his  return. 

"Wrong  place  again?"  questioned  cabbie. 

"Yes.    Make  another  try!" 


1 88  What  Dashleigh  Saw. 

Again  the  cab  containing  Bert  and  his  mandolin 
rattled  away. 

"I'll  be  arrested  soon  as  a  lunatic  or  dangerous  per- 
son!" he  groaned.  "Makes  me  want  to  go  home  and 
manufacture  some  lie  that  will  let  me  out  of  the  thing 
easily.  I  might  say  that  I  had  a  touch  of  fever  or 
something.  Well,  I'm  in  a  pretty  pickle !  And  who  in 
thunder  could  that  have  been?  That  couldn't  have 
been  Inza,  and  it  couldn't  have  been  the  fellow  that 
Ready  and  I  saw  this  afternoon.  I  shall  have  to  tell 
Ready  about  that." 

Two  other  houses  which  the  driver  said  were  oc- 
cupied by  Whitlocks  were  visited.  At  the  last  of  these 
unhappy  Bert  secured  a  clue. 

"Perhaps  you  are  looking  for  the  people  who  moved 
into  141,"  suggested  the  lady  of  the  house.  "I  think 
that's  the  name — Whitlock,  and  as  I  came  by  there 
this  evening  I  heard  sounds  which  indicated  that  they 
were  having  some  kind  of  a  party." 

"Just  moved  in?"  Bert  gasped.  "Then  that's  it. 
That's  the  reason  I  couldn't  find  the  name  in  the 
directory." 

Then  he  made  another  dive  for  the  cab,  asking  him- 
self why  folks  who  had  just  moved  into  a  new  neigh- 
borhood didn't  say  so  on  their  cards,  or  in  some  other 
manner  notify  people. 

"No.  141,"  he  said  to  the  jehu.  "We'll  try  that; 
and,  if  we  don't  dig  up  the  right  place  this  time,  we'll 
give  it  up  as  a  bad  job." 

But  it  was  the  right  place;  and,  although  he  was 


What  Dashleigh  Saw.  189 

"desperately  late,"  as  he  admitted,  he  was  graciously 
received.  After  he  had  feasted  as  well  as  could  be  ex- 
pected at  that  late  hour,  he  found  that  there  was  still 
an  hour  or  more  in  which  he  and  his  mandolin  would 
be  very  welcome. 

When  Bert  reached  his  room  that  night  he  found 
Dick  Starbright  just  turning  in,  and  he  hastily  told 
his  chum  his  story,  for  he  had  decided  that  he  must 
ask  him  what  he  thought  of  the  counterpart  of  Inza 
Burrage  he  had  beheld  in  that  house  on  Whitney 
Avenue. 

"I  knew  you'd  be  late,"  said  Starbright.  "You  al- 
ways are." 

"But  I  wouldn't  have  been  if  I  hadn't  forgotten  the 
number,"  Bert  insisted.  "But  I  don't  want  a  sermon; 
I  want  to  know  what  you  think  about  that  young 
woman  who  looked  so  much  like  Inza  Burrage  that  at 
first  I  could  have  sworn  it  was  she?" 

Dick  sat  down  and  deliberately  looked  his  chum 
over. 

"You  haven't  been  drinking?" 

"Honor  bright,  not  a  thing,  except  a  glass  of  wine 
at  Mrs.  Whitlock's.  But  I  hadn't  even  smelled  the 
wine  when  I  saw  that  girl." 

"I  shouldn't  think  anything  about  it  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  Amos  Belton,"  declared  the  big  freshman.  "His 
presence  there  makes  the  thing  a  mystery  to  me, 
though,  of  course,  there  is  no  mystery  in  it.  Perhaps 
he  called  on  some  young  lady  there  who  remarkably 


190  What  Dashleigh  Saw. 

resembles  Inza  Bur  rage.  You  say  yourself  it  was  not 
Inza  Burrage,  but  only  looked  like  her." 

"That  doesn't  explain  anything." 

"No,  perhaps  not.  But,  as  you  know,  it's  been  re- 
ported that  he  is  wildly  in  love  with  Inza.  She  doesn't 
care  anything  for  him,  of  course,  for  she's  crazy  about 
Merriwell." 

"Lucky  dog,  too!"  nodded  Bert. 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  think  myself.  Well,  now,  does 
it  strike  you  as  possible  that  Belton,  being  unable  to 
get  any  encouragement  from  Inza,  may  have  turned 
to  this  girl,  who  looks  so  much  like  her  ?  Seems  to  me 
there  may  be  your  explanation." 

"But  what  made  them  disappear  so  strangely  when 
she  discovered  me?" 

"You  scared  her,  probably,"  grinned  Dick.  "Per- 
haps she  took  you  for  a  burglar.  I've  an  idea  that 
you  looked  rather  wild-eyed  about  that  time.  You 
were  excited,  and,  no  doubt,  your  face  showed  it. 
Seeing  a  man  standing  in  the  hall,  which  she  supposed 
unoccupied,  she  was  naturally  frightened.  Any  girl 
would  have  been." 

"But  what  became  of  Belton?" 

"Well,  now,  ask  me  something  easy.  How  do  I 
know?" 

Dashleigh  sat  down  in  a  chair.  He  was  not  sat- 
isfied. 

"I  heard  the  other  day  that  Belton  is  soon  to  quit 
Yale,"  Dick  volunteered. 

"That  doesn't  explain  anything!" 


What  Dashleigh  Saw.  191 

"Who  said  it  did  ?  I  merely  made  the  remark.  He 
has  fallen  so  low  in  his  exams  that  he  can  go  no 
farther.  Seems  to  me  that  was  what  I  heard.  Either 
that  or  money  matters  forces  him  out  of  Yale.  But 
probably  it  isn't  money  matters,  for  he  could  find 
something  to  do  to  keep  himself  up." 

"Yes,  if  he  was  willing  to  work  like  a  horse  and 
live  like  a  hermit.  That's  about  the  only  way  for  a 
fellow  to  go  through  Yale,  or  any  other  college,  with- 
out money." 

"And  wasn't  it  Horace  Greeley  who  said  that  if  a 
man  is  to  succeed  in  anything  he  must  live  like  a  her- 
mit and  work  like  a  horse?  Anyway,  he  said  some- 
thing like  that." 

"Belton  is  from  the  South,  isn't  he?"  Dashleigh 
asked.  "Scarcely  probable  he'd  work  like  a  horse  to 
get  through  college." 

"From  Washington,  I  think.  Do  you  know,  that 
fellow  looks  almost  like  a  negro  to  me.  I  don't  won- 
der that  Inza  Burrage  has  never  given  him  any  en- 
couragement." 

"I  believe  you're  getting  struck  in  that  direction 
yourself,"  Dashleigh  laughed. 

Starbright  flushed  and  looked  uncomfortable. 

"You're  off !  But  there  aren't  many  nicer  girls  than 
Inza." 

When  Dashleigh  fell  asleep,  his  dreams  placed  him 
in  a  cab,  in  which,  throughout  the  remainder  of  the 
night,  he  pursued  Mrs.  Whitlock,  of  Whitney  Avenue, 
with  the  relentlessness  of  a  detective,  suddenly  to  find 


192  What  Dashleigh  Saw. 

her  standing  before  him  in  the  person  of  his  instructor 
in  mathematics,  who  naively  assured  him  that  what 
he  had  really  been  searching  for  was  the  elusive. 

"Get  up!"  came  in  the  voice  of  Dick  Starbright. 
"You're  flouncing  there  like  a  fish." 

"Is  it  morning?"  Bert  asked,  suddenly  rousing. 

"Yes,  and  a  beautiful  day.  A  better  one  for  that 
hockey-match  this  afternoon  couldn't  have  been  made 
to  order  1" 


CHAPTER  XX. 

FRANK    MERRIWELI/S   DILEMMA. 

When  Starbright  and  Dashleigh  appeared  on  the 
campus  they  were  greeted  with  a  sensation.  Dion  San- 
tenel  was  no  longer  a  prisoner.  He  had  escaped  from 
the  jail  t-.e  previous  evening. 

Merriwell,  Browning,  and  Hodge  were  talking 
about  it  over  by  the  senior  fence ;  and  though  the  mass 
of  the  students  had  no  knowledge  that  Dade  Morgan 
was  in  any  way  connected  with  the  man  who  had  been 
placed  in  jail  by  Merriwell,  the  escape  of  the  prisoner 
was  being  discussed  by  little  knots  of  Yale  men  gath- 
ered here  and  there. 

"Will  it  interfere  with  the  hockey-match  this  after- 
noon?" Bert  asked. 

"I  don't  see  why  it  should,"  was  the  answer  of  the 
student  of  whom  Bert  had  inquired. 

"On  account  of  Merriwell." 

"Oh,  yes;  I  forgot  that  you're  one  of  the  fellows 
who  think  the  sun  can't  rise  of  mornings  unless  Frank 
Merriwell  pries  it  up  with  a  lever.  That  hockey-match 
can  be  played  without  Merriwell!" 

"You're  joining  the  Chickering  set!"  said  Bert. 

"Oh,  no!  Only  I  happen  not  to  be  insane  over 
Merriwell!" 

There  were  others  who  asked  themselves  and  their 


194         Frank  Merriwell's  Dilemma. 

acquaintances  that  question,  but  all  conjecture  was  set 
at  rest  by  an  announcement  from  Frank  that  the  game 
would  be  played. 

When  Frank  returned  to  his  room  he  found  Dade 
Morgan  awaiting  him  in  the  corridor. 

"I  thought  I'd  like  to  have  a  few  words  with  you," 
said  Morgan. 

Frank  showed  him  into  his  apartments. 

"I  didn't  know  how  you  might  feel?"  Morgan 
queried. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  understand  you?" 

"About  the  hockey-match." 

"It  is  to  be  played  this  afternoon  on  Lake  Whitney. 
The  ice  is  being  cleared  of  the  snow  now  for  the 
game." 

"Yes,  I  knew  that.  But  I  wanted  to  know  if  you'd 
be  willing  for  me  to  play.  I'm  down  as  one  of  the  op- 
position players,  you  know,  and  after  what  has  hap- 
pened I  didn't  know  how  you  might  feel.  I'd  like  to 
play  in  that  match,  but " 

Morgan's  manner  was  subdued  and  almost  penitent. 

"I  have  had  no  thought  of  objecting  to  your  play- 
ing in  that  match,  Morgan.  I've  been  wondering, 
though,  how  much  you  know  about  that  escape  of 
Santenel." 

"No  more  than  you  do,"  Morgan  declared.  "I  was 
afraid  you  might  think  I  had  a  hand  in  that,  though 
you'll  see  that  I  couldn't." 

"Some  one  got  a  file  to  him,  and  he  cut  through  the 
bars,"  said  Frank,  watching  Dade  closely.  "He  es- 


Frank  Merriwell's  Dilemma.          195 

caped  early  last  evening.  No  one  seems  to  know  how 
he  secured  the  file,  and  some  of  the  prison  officials 
affect  to  believe  that  he  had  it  concealed  about  him 
when  he  was  put  in  jail.  Any  way,  he  is  out.  If  he'll 
steer  clear  of  New  Haven  and  let  me  and  my  father 
alone  hereafter,  I  shall  not  care  much.  You  don't 
know  anything  about  it?" 

"Not  a  thing." 

"You've  asked  me  about  the  hockey-match.  I'll  say 
this :  It  won't  be  healthy  for  you  to  attempt  any  un- 
derhanded work  in  that  game.  I  shall  discover  it  if 
you  do." 

Morgan  began  a  protest. 

"Ever  since  I've  known  that  you  and  Santenel  were 
connected,  I've  been  in  a  dilemma,"  Frank  went  on. 
"You  understand  what  I  mean." 

"I've  cut  loose  from  all  that,  Merriwell.  I  don't 
expect  you  to  believe  me  until  you've  had  the  proof. 
But  I've  cut  loose  from  work  of  the  kind  you  com- 
plain against." 

"If  you  had  any  hand  in  helping  Santenel  to  escape, 
I  shall  discover  it  by  and  by.  I'm  talking  plain  to 
you,  Morgan.  It's  not  my  style  to  beat  around  the 
bush  in  a  matter  like  this.  You  have  tried  your  best 
to  injure  me  here  at  Yale.  I  haven't  forgotten  it,  and 
I'm  not  likely  to.  I  have,  as  I  told  you,  proofs  enough 
to  force  you  out  of  Yale.  Perhaps  I  shall  use  them. 
If  I  find  that  you  had  a  hand  in  that  escape,  I  shall  cer- 
tainly use  them." 

"Just  give  me  time  to  show  you  that  I'm  all  right," 


196         Frank  Merriwell's  Dilemma. 

Dade  begged.  "I'm  going  to  play  fair  hereafter.  By 
that  I  don't  mean  that  I've  any  notion  of  joining  your 
flock." 

"No  one  joins  that  who  isn't  invited." 

Dade  flushed. 

"What  I  meant  was  that  I  can't  expect  to  become 
your  warm  friend  and  supporter  right  off.  I  shall 
retain  the  privilege  of  kicking  against  things  you  do, 
and  of  working  against  you  in  an  honorable  manner. 
But  I  have  cut  loose  from  everything  else.  I'll  prove 
it  in  time;  and  as  for  that  game  this  afternoon,  I'll 
promise  you  that  you  won't  have  a  man  on  your  team 
who  will  fight  harder  to  win." 

"You're  a  star  in  athletics,  Morgan.  For  that  rea- 
son alone  I  have  put  you  on  various  teams.  But  I 
have  never  trusted  you,  and  I  do  not  trust  you  now. 
So  you  may  look  out,  for  I  shall  be  watching  you." 

Dade  was  rather  pale  as  he  went  down  from  Van- 
derbilt.  -  He  realized  that  he  had  never  been  in  quite  so 
close  and  ticklish  a  place.  One  false  step  might  hurl 
him  out  of  Yale  in  disgrace. 

"You  bet  I'll  play  fair  this  afternoon,"  he  thought. 
"It  stands  me  in  hand  to  play  fair  just  now,  and  I'm 
the  boy  to  do  it  when  it's  necessary.  But  I  wonder 
how  Santenel  got  out  and  what's  become  of  him? 
He'll  hang  round  New  Haven,  no  doubt." 

So  strong  was  this  feeling  on  Dade  that  he  almost 
expected  to  see  Santenel  crouching  over  the  fire  in 
the  grate  when  he  returned  to  his  room,  but  the  hyp- 
notist was  not  there. 


Frank  Merriwell's  Dilemma.          197 

Hodge  passed  Morgan  on  the  stairs  as  the  latter  was 
descending,  and  entered  Frank's  room  with  a  dis- 
pleased look. 

"I  wouldn't  trust  that  fellow  an  inch  1"  he  growled. 

"I'm  not  trusting  him,"  said  Frank.  "I'm  merely 
watching  him." 

"Of  course.  I've  protested  so  much  that  you're  not 
likely  to  listen  to  anything  I  say,"  Hodge  grumbled. 
"But  I  wouldn't  even  permit  the  scoundrel  to  come 
into  these  rooms.  He'd  do  anything.  When  I  come 
in  here  and  know  that  he  has  just  left  you  I  find  my- 
self looking  round  in  search  of  an  infernal  machine 
or  something  of  the  kind.  That  fellow  has  no  more 
honor  than  a  rattlesnake." 

"I'm  not  trusting  him,"  Frank  repeated  quietly. 

"Yet  you  will  let  him  play  on  that  opposition  team 
this  afternoon.  You  haven't  said  so  to  me,  but  I 
know  that  you  will  do  it,  simply  because  he  is  a  good 
player." 

"I  have  no  right  to  say  who  shall  be  on  the  other 
team.  Then,  I've  another  reason,  Bart,"  Frank  ex- 
plained. "I  can  watch  him  better  while  he  is  there 
than  if  he  were  somewhere  else.  I  am  sure  he  will 
not  try  to  do  anything  risky,  for  he  knows  that  he  dare 
not.  I've  told  him  just  how  the  land  lays,  and,  under- 
standing that,  he  will  hold  himself  in.  I  shall  take 
steps  which  I  hope  will  bring  about  the  recapture  of 
Santenel.  Dirk  is  working  on  the  case.  The  police 
officials  feel  chagrined,  and  they  will  do  all  they  can." 


198         Frank  Merriwell's  Dilemma. 

"And  of  course  you'll  let  Morgan  remain  in  Yale?" 
said  Bart,  with  curling  lips. 

"I  don't  know.  I'm  in  a  dilemma  about  it.  You 
see,  it  is  this  way:  Morgan  is  such  a  capable  fellow 
that  if  he  could  be  brought  round  right,  he  would 
make  a  man  worthy  of  Yale.  With,  possibly,  the  ex- 
ception of  Starbright,  he  is  the  most  promising  fresh- 
man here.  If  I'm  lenient  with  him,  it  may  bring  him 
to  realize  just  how  he  stands.  He  may  turn  short 
about  and  make  a  man  of  himself.  While,  on  the 
other  hand,  if  I  should  brand  him  with  the  disgrace  of 
an  expulsion  from  the  college,  he  might  go  headlong 
to  the  bad.  That's  what  makes  me  hesitate.  I'd  like 
to  give  him  a  chance  to  become  something  more  than 
a  brilliant  villain." 

"Well,  he  will  never  be  anything  else." 

Hodge  had  been  quite  mild  in  his  protest  against 
Morgan,  but  he  said  this  last  very  positively.  When 
he  was  gone  Merriwell  sat  for  a  long  time  thinking. 
Usually  he  could  not  agree  with  Hodge  in  such  mat- 
ters; but  he  was  not  sure  that  in  this  instance  Hodge 
was  not  right. 

"I'll  give  Morgan  a  chance,  any  way !"  was  his  con- 
clusion. "I'll  let  him  play  in  that  match,  and  I'll  watch 
him." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

OLD   FRIENDS. 

A  large  crowd  hastened  out  to  Lake  Whitney  that 
afternoon  to  witness  the  match  between  the  two  Yale 
sevens. 

The  snowfall  had  spoiled  the  ice  for  skating,  but 
a  space  sufficiently  large  for  an  ice-hockey  match  had 
been  cleared  of  the  snow,  revealing  a  surface  to  please 
the  eye  of  the  most  critical  hockey-player. 

Not  only  was  Yale  well  represented,  but  a  number 
of  New  Haven  people  added  their  presence  to  the 
crowd,  being  anxious  to  see  the  playing,  chiefly  because 
Merriwell  was  on  one  of  the  teams. 

Frank  Merriwell  and  Inza  Burrage  drove  out. 
They  had  been  much  together  recently,  but  Inza  was 
to  leave  New  Haven  that  night  for  an  indefinite  ab- 
sence. 

As  Frank  descended  from  the  carriage  and  assisted 
Inza  to  alight,  a  sleigh,  the  only  one  there,  came  up 
with  the  horse  at  a  dead  run.  Out  of  the  sleigh  pro- 
ceeded a  roar,  and  tumbling  out  after  the  roar  fell  Bink 
Stubbs  and  Danny  Griswold. 

"Whoop !"  squealed  Danny,  making  a  dive  for  Mer- 
riwell. 

"Wow !"  squeaked  Bink,  diving  after  his  chum. 

Ready  puffed  out  his  cheeks  and  leaped  toward  them 
with  the  "glad  hand."  Dozens  of  others  appeared  tc 


2oo  Old  Friends. 

forget  all  about  ice-hockey  and  gravitated  toward  the 
two  little  fellows,  who  were  now  hopping  up  and  down, 
chattering  out  their  delight  and  shaking  hands  with 
every  one  who  came  forward. 

"We  were  afraid  we  wouldn't  be  in  time,"  Danny 
explained.  "Bink  came  up  with  me  on  the  train  this 
afternoon " 

"Don't  believe  him,  gentlemen !"  Bink  begged.  "He 
came  up  with  me.  Why,  you  don't  suppose  I'd  be 
caught  dead  chasing  that  thing  around,  do  you?  If 
he  hadn't  come  up  with  me " 

"You  mean  if  you  hadn't  come  up  with  me!" 

"If  you  hadn't  come  up  with  each  other?"  Merri- 
well  put  in. 

"Why,  we  wouldn't  be  here,  of  course.  Say,  Ready, 
heard  the  last  joke  on  Danny?" 

Bink  turned  to  his  old  friend. 

"I  never  expect  to  hear  the  last,"  Ready  averred. 

"It's  fortunate  that  Ready  knows  what  a  liar  you 
are!"  Danny  said. 

"We  were  coming  by  the  gym  when  Danny  saw  a 
man  buying  some  lunch  out  of  that  old  lunch-cart  sta- 
tioned there,  'Say,'  he  whispered,  and  he  took  hold 
of  my  arm  as  solemnly  as  an  astronomer  announcing 
the  discovery  of  a  new  comet,  'I've  discovered  some- 
thing! I  know  what  they  mean  now  when  they  talk 
about  dinner  a  la  carte.'  And,  gentlemen,  if  you'll  be- 
lieve me,  the  ignoramus  meant  it." 

"When  it  comes  to  lying,  you're  like  the  moon," 
Danny  declared.  "Nothing  on  earth  can  touch  you." 


Old  Friends.  201 

"Oh,  yes,  I'm  a  warm  baby,  but  not  so  warm  as  you 
were  the  other  evening  when  you  were  singing  *A 
Hot  Time.' " 

"Rats!     I  never  sing  it." 

"Don't  you  remember  when  those  boys  heated  that 
old  watch  and  laid  it  nicely  down  on  the  pavement,  and 
you  picked  it  up,  thinking  you'd  struck  a  find?" 

"Well,  I  didn't  sing  'A  Hot  Time.'  I  simply  re- 
marked that  all  the  hot  springs  were  not  in  Arkansas, 
Now,  you  slanderer,  I'll  make  it  cool  for  you!" 

He  grabbed  an  armful  of  snow  and  dashed  it  into 
Bink's  face. 

"  'And  I'll  follow  suit,'  as  the  Jew  said  when  he  be- 
gan to  chase  the  stolen  clothing  down  the  street." 

They  were  at  it,  and  for  a  little  while  there  was  a 
whirling  mass  of  snow,  arms,  and  legs,  with  a  head 
bobbing  out  now  and  then.  Ready  stood  by  and  se- 
renely whooped  his  encouragement. 

"It  seems  good  to  have  the  little  idiots  back  again/' 
Jack  remarked  to  Merriwell. 

"Idiots?" 

"That's  my  pet  name  for  them.  Yale  has  seemed 
lonesome,  somehow,  without  them." 

The  pair  of  snow  images  into  which  Bink  and  Danny 
were  transformed  had  ceased  fighting  and  were  again 
joking.  Danny  came  over  to  Inza  and  again  shook 
her  hand. 

"Bink  is  staying  in  New  York  now,  you  know. 
You  haven't  any  idea  of  how  foolish  and  sentimental 
he  has  become.  Why,  he's  actually  fallen  in  love  with 


2O2  Old  Friends. 

an  heiress  down  there.  The  other  day  he  went  to  the 
father  of  his  honeysuckle  and  asked  the  old  gent  for 
the  hand  of  his  daughter." 

"Of  course  he  instantly  consented,"  was  Inza's  smi- 
ling comment. 

"Well,  he  wasn't  in  a  hurry,  and  I  don't  think  he'll 
give  his  consent  now.  He  told  Bink  that  before  he 
answered  his  question  he'd  like  to  know  a  little  more 
about  him,  and  asked  him  what  was  his  station.  And 
will  you  believe  it,  the  idiot  said  that  he  usually  got  off 
at  Hyde  Park!" 

"You'll  get  off  the  earth  in  a  little  while  1"  Bink 
squeaked,  catching  the  last  words. 

"We'll  have  to  get  into  the  hockey-match,"  said 
Frank,  looking  at  his  watch.  "We're  nearly  an  hour 
late." 

The  teams  were  taking  their  places  on  the  ice  amid 
the  hand-clappings  of  their  supporters.  They  were 
merely  individual  teams,  one  led  by  Merriwell,  the 
other  by  Beckwith,  the  big  guard  of  the  football 
eleven.  The  names  and  the  positions  occupied  were 
as  follows: 

MERRIWELL'S.  POSITION.  BECKWITH'S. 

Browning Goal Beckwith. 

Carson Point Harlan. 

Dashleigh Cover-point Bingham. 

Starbright Forward Ned  Silver. 

Ready Forward Roll  Packard. 

Hodge Forward Defarge. 

Merriwell Forward Morgan. 

"I'd  like  to  play  that  game,"  cried  Danny,  waving 
his  short  arms  encouragingly. 


Old  Friends.  203 

"You'd  hoodoo  the  whole  thing,"  was  Bink's  un- 
charitable answer. 

"Hood-doo  it?"  Ready  mildly  asked,  as  he  struck 
at  an  imaginary  puck. 

"They're  doing  it !"  Bink  shrieked.  "See  that  drive ! 
Oh,  Sally!" 

The  puck  had  been  "faced"  in  the  center  of  the  field 
between  the  sticks  of  Merriwell  and  Morgan,  the 
referee  had  uttered  the  word  "Play!"  and  Morgan 
scooped  the  puck  back  to  one  of  his  men  with  a  dex- 
terous movement  that  caused  Bink  to  yell. 

The  smile  appeared  on  Dade's  face.  Since  his  last 
severe  defeat  by  Merriwell  he  had  almost  forgotten 
the  winning  smile  that  he  sought  always  to  wear;  but 
it  came  back  now. 

"Oh,  say,  that  fellow's  a  wonder!  Did  you  see 
that?"  Bink  demanded. 

"I  see  that  you're  a  fool!"  Danny  snarled.  "Just 
wait  till  Merriwell  gets  into  gear.  I  think  he  could 
have  prevented  that." 

"Oh,  that's  the  way  with  you  fellows,  always!" 
sneered  Gene  Skelding,  who  chanced  to  be  standing 
by.  "Whenever  Merriwell  wins,  it's  an  indication  that 
he's  the  greatest  player  in  the  world;  and  when  he 
loses  it  is  because  he  is  so  generous  that  he  does  not 
wish  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  an  opponent  by  defeating 
him." 

The  little  fellows  turned  on  Skelding  with  flashing 
eyes. 


204  Old  Friends. 

"Oh,  don't  fight!"  Inza  smilingly  begged.  "You'll 
miss  some  interesting  playing  while  you're  at  it" 

"It's  a  good  thing  you  interfered,"  said  Bink,  speak- 
ing to  her  a  moment  after.  "We'd  have  eaten  the  fel- 
low up." 

"I  knew  it,  and  so  I  interfered.  I  was  like  the  little 
boy  who  ate  up  the  piece  of  pie  belonging  to  his  little 
brother." 

She  smiled  sweetly.    Bink  stared. 

"How  was  that  ?" 

"I  took  the  weaker  one's  part." 

Bink  fell  over  gurgling  in  the  snow,  and  Danny 
gave  him  a  kick  to  "drive  some  sense  into  him,"  as  he 
said. 

"You're  missing  it  all,"  Inza  urged. 

"And  we  came  down  from  New  York  on  purpose  to 
see  this  great  and  glorious  game!" 

Bink  would  have  tackled  Danny,  but  the  cheering  of 
the  spectators  warned  him  that  he  was  indeed  losing 
some  good  playing. 

Beckwith's  forwards  had  the  puck  and  were  forcing 
it  toward  Merriwell's  goal.  Silver  pushed  it  to  Pack- 
ard and  Packard  to  Defarge,  and  the  latter  drove  it 
toward  Merriwell's  flags. 

"Stop  it !    Stop  it !"  Danny  yelled. 

"Oh,  he's  doing  it!"  shrieked  Bink.  "That's  right, 
Browning,  old  boy!  Drive  it  back!" 

Browning  was  a  capital  goal-keeper.  He  not  only 
blocked  Defarge's  play,  but  he  sent  the  puck  skipping 


Old  Friends.  205 

back  along  the  ice  toward  the  goal  of  the  opposing 
team. 

There  were  yells  of  "off-side,"  from  the  spectators 
as  the  members  of  the  opposing  teams  came  together, 
but  the  play  went  on. 

Silver  tried  to  carom  the  puck  against  a  board  at  the 
side  of  the  natural  rink,  and  so  shoot  it  toward  Mer- 
riwell's  goal,  Merriwell  being  in  front  of  him;  but 
Merriwell's  stick  caught  it,  deviated  it,  and  sent  it  be- 
tween the  goal-posts  of  his  opponents. 

The  puck  was  again  faced  in  the  center  of  the  field 
between  the  sticks  of  Morgan  and  Merriwell.  Bade 
had  secured  it  before,  and  he  was  alertly  watchful  for 
this  advantage  again. 

Morgan  was  a  handsome  fellow,  and  as  he  and 
Frank  stood  in  position  for  the  beginning  of  the  play 
their  pose  was  worthy  of  the  genius  of  a  sculptor. 
There  was  a  silence,  broken  by  the  "Play!"  of  the 
referee. 

Morgan  scooped  at  the  puck  as  he  had  done  before, 
but  to  his  surprise  he  found  his  quickest  movement 
too  slow.  The  puck  was  moved  by  Merriwell's  stick 
and  shot  across  the  ice. 

Packard  stopped  it  and  sent  it  flying  back,  where  it 
was  caught  by  the  stick  of  Jack  Ready,  who  dribbled  it 
forward,  skating  easily  and  gracefully ;  then,  seeing  it 
was  in  danger  of  being  taken  from  him,  he  managed 
to  pass  it  to  Merriwell.  Starbright  was  in  a  better 
position  than  Merriwell  to  receive  it,  but  to  have  sent 
it  to  Starbright  would  have  put  Merriwell  off-side,  and 


206  Old  Friends. 

Ready  believed  that  Merriwell  could  handle  it  better 
than  any  one  else. 

The  result  justified  his  judgment,  for  Merriwell 
promptly  drove  the  puck  between  Beckwith's  goal- 
posts, and  another  score  was  added  to  his  side. 

"Second  blood  for  Merriwell!"  shrieked  Bink, 
throwing  up  his  cap  and  catching  it  on  his  head.  "I'm 
betting  my  little  wad  on  Merriwell !" 

"  'Rah  for  Merriwell !"  Danny  squealed. 

The  play  was  on  again,  and  Merriwell's  team  was 
working  for  another  drive.  Frank  had  selected  and 
disposed  his  men  to  the  best  advantage,  as  was  shown 
by  their  playing.  But  it  was  quickly  seen  that  Beck- 
with  had  been  equally  clever,  and  that  he  had  in  his 
team  some  of  the  very  best  hockey  timber  in  the  col- 
lege. Morgan  was  a  veritable  wonder  on  skates. 

Though  Starbright  on  a  previous  occasion  had 
beaten  Morgan  in  a  race  on  skates,  thus  proving  him- 
self the  faster  skater,  he  was  not  as  nimble  and  sinuous 
as  Morgan,  who  seemed  to  have  the  twisting  powers 
of  an  eel  and  the  quickness  of  a  wildcat. 

And  Morgan  was  playing  for  all  that  was  in  him. 
He  was  playing  fair,  too,  for  he  knew  that  Merri- 
well was  watching  him.  He  had  greatly  feared  that 
Frank  would  object  to  his  continuance  on  Beckwith's 
team.  Now  he  was  setting  himself  to  do  two  things : 
To  prove  his  superiority  as  a  hockey-player  and  thus 
endeavor  to  recover  whatever  ground  he  had  lost  in 
the  estimation  of  the  freshmen,  and  to  show  Merriwell 
that  he  had  entered  on  a  course  of  square  dealing. 


Old  Friends.  207 

Morgan  was  the  real  leader  of  the  Beckwith  team, 
even  though  Beckwith  had  made  up  the  team  and  was 
nominally  its  captain.  Every  one  soon  saw  this,  even 
Beckwith  himself.  But  Beckwith  was  a  big,  generous 
fellow,  who  did  not  care  where  the  honor  went  so  long 
as  his  team  made  a  good  showing,  and  possibly  man- 
aged to  win  the  game. 

Now,  getting  possession  of  the  puck,  Morgan,  as- 
sisted by  the  other  forwards,  pushed  it  down  the  ice, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  exertions  of  Merriwell's  men,  shot 
it  safely  for  goal. 

The  play  was  renewed,  and  within  two  minutes  this 
was  repeated. 

"Hold  'em!  Hold  'em!"  Bink  and  Danny  were  bel- 
lowing to  Bruce.  "Oh,  thou  lazy  giant,  hold  'em!" 

The  fight  was  on  again,  with  the  puck  once  more 
going  toward  Merriwell's  goal.  Some  enthusiastic 
Morganites  began  to  bellow: 

"Morgan,  Morgan,  you  are  true ! 
You're  an  honor  to  the  Blue! 

Make  a  dive 

And  let  her  drive, 
We  will  pin  our  faith  to  you. 

"On  your  team  is  Silver,  white, 
And  old  Beck,  so  golden  bright. 

Bingham  true, 

And  Harlan,  too ! 
Hold  'em  down,  and  make  'em  fight 

"Defarge,  Packard,  paste  away! 
If  the  Merrys  get  too  gay, 
You've  the  team, 
To  make  them  dream ! 
You  can  show  them  how  to  play." 


2o8  Old  Friends. 

The  playing  became  so  brilliant  that  the  most  sated 
Yale  man  was  awakened  to  active  interest,  and  soon 
found  himself  yelling  like  mad  for  the  side  he  favored. 

Morgan  secured  the  puck. 

Biff! 

It  flew  toward  Merriwell's  goal,  but  Browning,  the 
goal-keeper,  cleverly  stopped  it.  Merriwell's  stick 
caught  it  up  and  it  went  sailing  toward  the  opposite 
end  of  the  ice.  The  forwards  tried  to  get  it  as  it 
whizzed  past  them.  The  cover-point  and  cover  tried 
to  stop  it.  But  it  did  not  get  between  the  goal-posts, 
for  Beckwith  was  there — Beckwith,  who  as  a  goal- 
keeper was  a  match  for  any  goal-keeper  in  Yale,  not 
excepting  big  Bruce  Browning. 

The  puck  skipped  to  the  middle  of  the  cleared  space, 
and  another  fight  took  place  for  its  possession. 

Suddenly  Morgan  was  declared  off-side  in  a  play, 
and  the  puck  was  taken  back  to  the  center  of  the  rink, 
where  it  was  faced  again  for  a  renewal  of  the  game. 

The  off-side  play  had  been  unintentional  on  Mor- 
gan's part,  due  to  excitement ;  but  his  dark  face  flamed, 
nevertheless,  for  he  had  lost  an  advantage,  and  he 
fancied  that  Merriwell  would  believe  he  had  been  try- 
ing trickery.  Then  the  game  again  raged. 

Again  Merriwell  drove  the  puck  toward  Beckwith's 
goal ;  but  it  was  stopped  by  Ned  Silver,  who,  in  trying 
to  send  it  back,  made  a  quick  play  which  merely  skipped 
the  puck  off  the  cleared  ice.  There  was  a  little  delay 
while  it  was  brought  on;  then  the  fight  for  a  goal 
recommenced. 


Old  Friends.  209 

The  puck  came  once  more  beneath  Merriwell's  stick. 

"Now,  drive  it!"  yelled  Bink,  who,  with  Danny,  had 
been  hopping  about  through  it  all  in  the  greatest  ex- 
citement. 

"Drive  it!"  squealed  Danny. 

Merriwell  drove  it  straight  as  an  arrow  between  the 
goal-posts  of  his  opponents;  and  the  score  became 
three  for  the  Merriwells,  with  two  for  Beckwith's 
men. 

"That's  right !"  Bink  piped.  "If  you'll  just  obey  the 
orders  of  your  uncle,  you'll  always  do  the  right  thing !" 

When  the  play  was  resumed  Beckwith's  team  began 
again  their  tactics  of  rushing  the  puck  headlong,  and 
with  volcanic  energy,  toward  Merriwell's  goal.  They 
came  near  making  a  goal  in  less  than  a  minute,  too; 
for  Dashleigh,  who  had  been  doing  excellent  work, 
slipped  in,  making  a  quick  turn  to  drive,  and,  falling 
headlong  on  the  ice,  left  the  puck  uncovered  for  a  mo- 
ment. Defarge  skated  in  with  lightning  speed,  and, 
taking  the  puck,  drove  and  dribbled  it  toward  Merri- 
well's goal. 

He  tried  to  send  it  through  between  the  goal-posts, 
but  Starbright  blocked  it,  and  sent  it  flying  back. 

"Hooray!"  yelled  Bink,  for  he  thought  Starbright 
had  made  a  goal. 

But  Beckwith  had  stopped  the  play;  and  Morgan 
now  drove  the  puck  between  the  Merriwell  flags,  and 
the  score  was  tied. 

The  whistle  of  the  timekeeper  sounded.  The  first 
half  of  the  game  had  come  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HOT   WORK. 

Bink  and  Danny  locked  arms  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  first  half  of  the  game  and  walked  up  and  down 
like  crowing  bantam  roosters,  bellowing  college  songs, 
in  which  the  name  of  Merriwell  figured  largely. 

"What  are  you  bawling  about?"  Defarge  demanded. 
"Your  favorites  haven't  won  the  game.  You've  heard 
of  the  fools  who  'hollered'  before  they  were  out  of 
the  woods?" 

"Oh,  go  use  some  salt!"  Danny  flung  back  at  him. 

"What  in  the  dickens  did  you  mean  by  that?"  Bink 
asked,  when  an  opportunity  offered.  "Use  some  salt !" 

"I  meant  for  him  to  get  off  the  ice,"  Danny 
chuckled.  "Salt  or  ashes,  either  one.  I  simply  hap- 
pened to  think  of  salt  first." 

Then  the  two  marched  on,  singing: 

"Oh,  our  Merry  is  the  lad,  boys ! 
Rally  round  him  true! 
Beating  the  battle-drum  of  Eli. 
He's  the  best  that  Yale  has  had,  boys, 
Rally  round  him,  do! 
You'll  never  see  another  at  Old  Eli. 

"Oh,  Merry  forever, 

Hurrah,  boys !  hurrah ! 
Oh,  Merry  forever, 

The  king  without  a  flawl 
Well  sing  his  praises  true,  boys, 
For  the  honor  of  the  Blue ! 
For  Merriwell,  the  glory  of  Old  Eli!" 


Hot  Work.  211 

The  teams  again  went  on  the  cleared  space,  the  puck 
was  faced,  and  the  referee  sharply  called  "Play!" 

Again,  as  in  the  beginning,  Morgan  secured  the  first 
scoop  of  the  puck.  He  sent  it  toward  Merri well's  goal- 
posts and  the  Beckwith  team  again  tried  to  rush  it  on. 

Browning  was  in  place,  blocked  it  with  his  feet,  and 
skipped  it  off  to  one  side.  But  it  was  in  position  for 
another  drive  at  Merriwell's  goal  in  a  surprisingly 
short  time.  Starbright  tried  to  get  it,  but  Packard 
drove  it  past  him,  making  a  perilous  lunge  that  came 
near  pitching  him  on  the  ice.  But  Hodge's  stick  caught 
the  puck,  cracked  heavily  against  it,  and  the  two  teams 
rushing  after  it,  the  fight  for  its  possession  raged  at 
the  other  end  of  the  surface. 

Then  Merriwell  secured  the  puck,  shooting  it  back 
to  Ready,  who  boastingly  claimed  that  he  was  always 
"Ready"  for  anything.  Jack  proved  his  worthiness 
of  the  name  and  drove  the  bit  of  rubber  between  Beck- 
with's  flags. 

Morgan  was  determined  to  win  the  game  from  Mer- 
riwell, and  when  he  and  Frank  again  faced  each  other 
with  the  puck  between  their  sticks,  awaiting  the  word 
of  the  referee,  this  determination  was  increased  by 
the  fact  that  Merriwell's  team  was  now  one  goal  ahead. 

But  in  spite  of  his  determination,  Merriwell's  stick 
was  the  first  to  move  the  puck.  But  he  could  not  drive 
it  for  goal.  It  went  down  to  Bingham,  the  opposing 
cover-point,  who  whirled  it  back.  Then  Hodge's  stick 
cracked  against  it,  and  it  skipped  once  more  toward 


212  Hot  Work. 

Beckwith's  goal-line.  Harlan  stopped  it  here,  and  an 
exciting  scrimmage  occurred. 

Out  of  the  welter  it  flew  back  toward  Merriwell's 
goal,  against  the  stick  of  Harlan,  who  began  to  dribble 
it  down  the  ice.  Fearing  to  lose  it,  he  sent  it  back  to 
Bingham,  who  shot  it  to  one  side  to  Ned  Silver,  who 
drove  it,  amid  cries  of  "off-side,"  for  Merriwell's  goal. 

Carson  and  Browning  both  tried  to  stop  it,  but  they 
failed.  Another  goal  was  added  to  Beckwith's  side, 
and  the  score  stood  four  to  four. 

"Oh,  this  isn't  easy  work!"  squealed  Bink.  "This 
is  the  kind  of  playing  that  turns  a  fellow's  heart  into  a 
force-pump !" 

"Hang  it!  I'd  hate  to  have  Merry  beaten  after  all 
our  howling,"  Danny  grumbled. 

"You  base  skeptic!"  said  Inza,  turning  on  him. 
"Doubters  have  no  place  in  Merriwell's  camp !" 

"I  ain't  'doubtin'  him,'  as  the  old  country  woman 
said  when  told  that  her  husband  was  having  an  awful 
fight  with  a  bear.  'I  ain't  doubtin'  him  a  mite;  but 
I'm  kinder  oneasy !' ' 

Morgan  was  fighting  now  with  great  coolness,  but 
with  a  sort  of  fierceness  under  it  all  that  was  wonderful 
to  see.  He  was  marvelously  skilful  He  was  as  quick 
as  lightning,  and  as  he  was  able  to  skate  fast  or  slow, 
he  was  not  easily  thrown  off  his  feet  by  the  body- 
checking,  blocking,  and  interference  of  an  opponent. 

He  could  dodge  and  twist  as  cleverly  as  Merriwell 
himself,  and  he  could  stop  with  a  suddenness  that  was 


Hot  Work.  213 

startling.  Nearly  every  other  player  had  at  some  time 
during  the  game  been  thrown  from  his  feet,  some  re- 
ceiving jarring  falls,  but  nothing  apparently  could 
overthrow  Dade  Morgan. 

In  the  next  two  minutes  of  play  Beckwith's  men  se- 
cured another  goal  through  the  fine  work  of  Morgan, 
making  the  score  five  in  their  favor  to  four  for  the 
Merriwells. 

Then  how  the  friends  of  Morgan  yelled !  Bink  and 
Danny  tried  to  lift  a  song  of  encouragement  for  Mer- 
riwell's  men,  but  it  was  drowned  in  the  roar  that  went 
up  for  Morgan. 

Dade's  face  was  darkly  flushed,  his  eyes  were  shi- 
ning brightly  and  the  smile  had  deepened.  He  began  to 
see  the  possibility  of  defeating  Merriwell's  men.  If 
he  could  do  that,  he  felt  that  it  would  reinstate  him  in 
the  good  graces  of  all  his  former  friends,  and  perhaps 
give  him  the  unquestioned  leadership  of  the  freshmen. 
That  would,  he  fancied,  humiliate  both  Starbright  and 
Merriwell. 

The  game  had  begun  nearly  an  hour  late,  and  the 
short  day  was  rapidly  drawing  to  a  close.  But  none  of 
the  players,  none  of  the  spectators,  noticed  this,  so 
great  was  their  interest  and  excitement.  The  specta- 
tors had  come  out  expecting  a  good  game,  but  not  pre- 
pared for  such  bulldog  and  wildcat  style  of  hockey- 
fighting.  It  was  worth  going  miles  to  witness. 

Again  the  play  was  on,  with  the  groups  round  the 
cleared  space  crowding  as  close  up  as  they  were  per- 


214  Hot  Work. 

mitted,  and  all  howling  for  their  favorites  and  vocifer- 
ously applauding. 

Now  and  then  through  the  uproar  could  be  heard 
the  shrill  squeals  of  Bink  and  Danny  as  they  piped 
for  Merriwell. 

After  a  fierce  struggle  Merriwell  secured  the  puck 
in  the  open  and  made  a  rush  of  the  entire  length  of  the 
rink,  dodging  three  opponents  and  scoring  a  beautiful 
goal,  tieing  the  score,  which  was  now  five  to  five. 

In  the  next  play  Beckwith's  men  forced  the  puck  to 
the  flags  of  their  opponents  and  made  a  desperate  ef- 
fort to  get  another  goal.  But  they  failed  to  get  by 
Browning.  Time  after  time  his  wonderful  lifting  and 
stopping  sent  the  puck  from  his  goal. 

Then  Beckwith's  men  made  another  effort,  and  sent 
the  puck  between  the  flags  with  a  high  shot  which  was 
instantly  protested.  It  had  been  made  by  Ned  Silver, 
and  no  one  thought  that  Silver  had  tried  to  cheat ;  but 
the  rules  provided  that  no  player  should  raise  his  stick 
above  his  shoulder,  and  Silver  had  done  that. 

The  goal  was  not  counted;  and  with  the  match  still 
a  tie,  the  fight  for  goals  was  renewed. 

Silver  might  have  been  ruled  off  the  ice,  but,  the 
referee  believing  no  infraction  of  the  rules  had  been 
intended,  this  was  not  done. 

Merriwell  now  began  to  push  the  work  toward  the 
other  end  of  the  rink,  twice  sending  the  puck  for  goal, 
but  each  time  the  disk  was  stopped  by  Beckwith,  whose 
agility  was  remarkable  for  a  man  of  his  size.  Beck- 
with was  a  great  football-player,  and  he  showed  that 


Hot  Work.  215 

he  was  equally  good  as  a  goal-keeper  in  a  hockey- 
match. 

The  position  of  goal-keeper  is  a  hard  one,  and  often 
thankless.  Though  Beckwith  frequently  gained  pos- 
session of  the  puck  he  was  never  given  time  or  room 
to  pass  it  down  the  rink,  but  was  forced  to  shoot  it 
off  to  one  side,  thus  preventing  another  try-for-goal 
until  the  rubber  could  be  worked  back  into  favorable 
position. 

Finally  Merriwell  found  the  opening  he  was  seeking 
and  drove  the  puck  between  the  goal-posts,  and  the 
score  became  six  for  his  team  to  five  for  Beckwith's. 

"Fellows,  we  can  beat  them !"  Morgan  urged,  before 
the  beginning  of  the  next  play.  "We'll  do  it." 

The  response  was  all  that  he  wished,  so  far  as  effort 
went.  But  Merriwell  seemed  now  to  have  struck  the 
winning  streak.  The  puck  went  toward  Beckwith's 
side,  and  then  farther  along  by  clever  lifting  and  drib- 
bling. 

The  musical  ring  of  the  skates  and  the  sinewy  move- 
ments of  the  skaters  were  inspiring.  Bink  and  Danny 
lost  their  heads  completely  and  yelled  and  squeaked 
until  they  were  hoarse. 

Every  inch  of  the  way  was  hotly  contested,  and  the 
puck  skipping  back  and  forth,  the  excited  spectators 
could  hardly  tell  for  a  time  in  which  direction  it  was 
really  progressing. 

Several  times  there  were  cries  of  "off-side,"  but 
Frank  saw  that  his  men  were  doing  no  off-side  play, 
and  the  infractions  of  the  rule  by  other  players  seemed 


216  Hot  Work. 

inconsequential.  Once,  however,  he  saw  a  skater — it 
was  Roland  Packard — advance  the  puck  with  his  skate. 
Merriwell  would  have  protested  against  this  if  the  puck 
had  not  been  checked  and  sent  on  toward  Beckwith's 
goal.  The  officials  did  not  see  the  trick  of  Packard. 

Starbright  secured  the  puck  and  was  about  to  drive 
it  for  goal,  when  it  was  "biffed"  away  by  Morgan's 
stick.  Morgan  shot  it  to  Silver,  who  attempted  to  send 
it  farther  along. 

Then  Ready  secured  it  and  started  with  it  down  the 
rink,  dribbling  it  just  ahead  of  him.  He  tried  to  "lift" 
it  over  the  heads  of  the  cover-point  and  others,  but  it 
was  stopped,  and  came  whizzing  back  again. 

Dashleigh  obtained  it  and  sent  it  bang  against  Beck- 
with's shins,  and  Beckwith  shot  it  to  one  side. 

After  some  more  quick  work  it  came  into  Merri- 
well's  possession.  Morgan  skated  in  with  the  speed 
of  lightning  to  prevent  Frank's  play;  but,  swift  as  he 
was,  he  was  too  slow.  Frank's  stick  pushed  the  puck 
with  a  quick  flirt  past  Morgan  and  between  the  posts, 
and  another  goal  had  been  added. 

The  score  was  seven  to  five  when  the  timekeeper's 
whistle  blew. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   ABDUCTION   OF   INZA. 

As  if  it  were  an  echo  of  that  whistle,  a  scream  came 
from  the  lips  of  Inza  Burrage.  Having  grown  tired, 
she  had  seated  herself  in  the  sleigh  which  had  brought 
out  Danny  and  Bink. 

Merriwell  turned  and  beheld  an  astounding  sight. 
A  man  he  believed  to  be  Amos  Belton,  the  junior  whom 
rumor  said  had  fallen  wildly  in  love  with  Inza,  was 
driving  rapidly  down  the  road  in  the  sleigh,  holding 
Inza  to  his  side  in  a  clutch  she  could  not  cast  off.  He 
had  thrown  something  over  her  head,  and  this  smoth- 
ered her  further  screams,  and  also  rendered  her  help- 
less in  his  hands. 

The  spectators,  who  but  a  moment  before  had  been 
wildly  cheering  the  playing  of  the  hockey-teams,  stood 
as  if  frozen  with  astonishment.  While  they  hesitated, 
out  of  their  midst  leaped  Merriwell,  running  on  his 
skates. 

For  the  first  time  he  observed  the  extreme  lateness 
of  the  hour.  The  delays  caused  by  falls  and  the  pro- 
test of  Silver's  play  had  wonderfully  lengthened  out 
the  playing  time.  The  sun  had  set  and  night  was  fast 
coming  on. 

Bink  and  Danny  were  aghast. 

"Our  team!"  Danny  squalled.    "Did  you  ever?" 


218  The  Abduction  of  Inza. 

As  they  were  not  aware  of  Belton's  infatuation  for 
Inza,  they  had  nothing  on  which  to  build  a  theory. 

Merriwell's  leap  for  the  nearest  vehicle  set  the  whole 
crowd  in  motion.  Starbright  and  Dashleigh  sprang 
toward  a  horse.  Dashleigh's  mind  was  in  a  whirl,  as 
it  went  back  to  what  he  had  seen  in  that  house  on 
Whitney  Avenue  while  he  was  searching  for  the 
"party"  given  by  Mrs.  Whitlock.  He  could  not  help 
feeling  that  what  he  had  beheld  there  was  in  some  way 
connected  with  what  was  now  happening.  Yet  he 
could  not  see  the  connection.  The  girl  seen  in  that 
house  was  not  Inza  Burrage.  He  knew  that,  though 
she  had  looked  so  much  like  her. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think!"  he  stammered  to 
Starbright. 

"You  can  see  what  Belton  is  doing!" 

"Yes,  but " 

"Hello !"  cried  Starbright  in  dismay.  "The  harness 
is  cut !" 

Merriwell  made  the  same  discovery  concerning  the 
horse  to  which  he  had  run.  The  harness  had  been 
slashed  with  a  sharp  knife,  which  had  cut  through  the 
leather  in  several  places,  rendering  it  useless. 

Merriwell  darted  to  the  next  horse.  The  harness 
of  that  horse  was  also  severed.  He  saw  beyond  this 
horse  a  sleigh  which  had  recently  been  driven  up,  as 
was  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  the  horse  seemed  blown. 
This  animal  was  unblanketed,  and  all  those  brought 
to  the  lake  earlier  in  the  afternoon  had  been  heavily 
blanketed  to  protect  them  from  the  wind  and  cold. 


The  Abduction  of  Inza.  219 

"The  fellow  came  out  in  that  sleigh !"  he  thought. 

Seeing  that  the  harness  was  intact,  he  sprang  to- 
ward the  vehicle,  at  the  same  time  glancing  down  the 
road  where  the  sleigh  holding  Inza  and  her  abductor 
was  vanishing. 

Hodge  and  Browning  had  jumped  toward  carriages 
with  the  intention  of  taking  the  first  they  came  to  and 
joining  in  the  chase,  but  the  harnesses  were  so  cut  and 
slashed  that  they  could  not  be  used. 

Merriwell  leaped  into  the  sleigh  and  turned  the 
horse  toward  the  road.  Then  he  reached  over,  took 
the  whip,  and  gave  the  animal  a  cut.  It  started  down 
the  road  at  a  speedy  gait. 

Frank's  mind  was  in  as  much  of  a  whirl  as  Dash- 
leigh's.  He  did  not  know  what  Dashleigh  had  seen 
on  Whitney  Avenue,  but  he  had  heard  of  the  infatua- 
tion of  Amos  Belton  for  Inza.  He  had  learned,  too, 
that  Belton  had  dropped  behind  in  his  studies  and  was 
likely  to  be  forced  out  of  Yale  on  that  account.  The 
report  which  had  reached  him  accounted  for  Belton's 
low  grade  on  the  theory  that  the  junior's  mind  was  so 
taken  up  by  thoughts  of  Inza  that  he  could  not  study. 

But  Merriwell  had  never  dreamed  that  Belton  would 
do  what  he  now  seemed  to  be  doing,  and  the  only 
theory  on  which  he  could  build  for  a  possible  solution 
was  that  the  junior  had  suddenly  become  insane. 

Filled  by  this  fear,  Merriwell  gave  the  horse  another 
cut,  and  sent  it  down  the  road  at  a  racing  gallop. 

With  the  horse  going  at  top  speed,  Merriwell  gave 


220  The  Abduction  of  Inza. 

a  moment  to  the  removal  of  his  skates;  then  again 
took  up  the  whip. 

Back  by  the  lake  students  were  engaged  in  frantic 
efforts  to  tie  and  splice  the  cut  harnesses,  while  most 
of  the  great  crowd  was  streaming  on  foot  down  the 
road.  In  the  midst  of  these  ran  Danny  and  Bink, 
whose  shrill  voices  Merriwell  could  hear  amid  the  din. 

Then  Starbright  loomed  out  of  the  crowd,  mounted 
bareback  on  a  horse  which  he  had  cut  loose  from  a 
buggy.  But  he  was  far  in  the  rear  of  Frank,  and  his 
chances  of  aiding  Inza  seemed  poor  indeed. 

The  sleigh  containing  Inza  and  the  miscreant  who 
had  seized  her  was  flying  along  straight  for  New 
Haven,  a  good  distance  in  advance  of  Merriwell. 

Suddenly  Frank  noticed  that  his  horse  was  losing 
speed  and  beginning  to  limp.  He  applied  the  whip, 
rendered  heartless  in  his  treatment  of  the  animal  by 
the  fear  that  possessed  him. 

But  the  limping  increased  and  the  speed  became 
slower.  A  half-dozen  times  the  horse  stumbled  and 
almost  fell.  Then  it  stopped,  doggedly  refusing  to 
make  another  effort.  It  was  dead  lame. 

Frank  realized  now  why  this  horse  had  been  left 
and  the  other  taken.  Probably  Inza's  abductor  had 
not  meant  to  take  the  other  horse  as  he  drove  out,  but 
his  own  horse  falling  lame,  he  had  seized  the  one 
driven  by  Bink  and  Danny.  Fortunately  for  his  plans, 
Inza  was  seated  in  that  sleigh,  making  the  work  easier 
for  him. 


The  Abduction  of  Inza.  221 

Seeing  that  it  was  useless  to  depend  further  on  this 
animal,  Frank  sprang  out  of  the  sleigh. 

He  would  have  continued  the  chase  on  foot,  but 
glancing  back,  he  saw  Starbright  coming  on  the  horse 
cut  loose  from  the  buggy.  Behind  Starbright,  at 
varying  distances,  streamed  the  students  and  the  spec- 
tators. 

"Let  me  have  your  horse!"  Merriwell  commanded, 
as  Starbright  came  up,  for  Dick  seemed  about  to  ride 
by. 

Starbright  reined  in  with  a  jerk  and  slipped  to  the 
ground. 

"You're  lighter  than  I  am,"  he  said,  "and  can  get 
more  speed  out  of  the  beast.  Take  him  and  welcome. 
You  must  get  Inza  out  of  the  clutches  of  that  rascal. 
He  must  be  crazy!" 

Frank  vaulted  to  the  back  of  the  big  black  and  was 
away.  The  horse  was  fleeter  than  the  other  at  his 
best,  and  Frank's  hopes  began  to  rise.  Yet  so  much 
time  had  been  already  lost  that  it  began  to  look  im- 
possible for  him  to  overtake  the  sleigh  before  it 
reached  the  tangle  of  city  streets,  if  it  could  be  done 
at  all. 

"Crazy  as  a  loon!"  was  Frank's  thought  as  he  tore 
along,  a  terrible  dread  at  his  heart.  "It's  singular  that 
he  drives  straight  toward  the  city!" 

The  lights  were  beginning  to  glow  in  the  streets 
when  Frank,  still  a  considerable  distance  behind,  saw 
the  sleigh  turn  down  a  side  avenue  and  disappear  be- 
hind some  buildings. 


222  The  Abduction  of  Inza. 

He  had  ridden  his  horse  at  such  high  speed  that  he 
had  greatly  decreased  the  distance  separating  him 
from  the  sleigh.  Riding  hard  for  the  avenue  down 
which  the  sleigh  and  its  occupant  had  vanished,  Frank 
saw  them  again  at  the  crossing  of  another  street. 

Then  the  houses  shut  them  from  sight,  and  when 
he  again  beheld  the  sleigh  it  was  returning  to  the  prin- 
cipal street.  When  he  reached  that  street,  however, 
it  had  again  vanished. 

"It  is  singular  that  Inza  doesn't  cry  out  and  attract 
attention." 

His  heart  was  chilled  by  the  answering  thought : 

"No  doubt  she  is  unconscious.  The  villain  has 
choked  or  smothered  her.  She  is  not  a  girl  to  faint 
easily  otherwise.  He  must  be  crazy.  This  zigzagging 
back  and  forth  shows  it." 

Frank  seemed  to  be  chasing  a  will-o'-the-wisp.  At 
one  moment  he  would  see  the  sleigh,  then  the  driver 
would  send  it  down  some  side  street,  after  which  it 
would  appear  again,  to  repeat  this  maneuver. 

Observing  a  policeman  at  a  corner,  Frank  leaped 
from  his  horse,  called  the  bluecoat's  attention  to  the 
sleigh ;  then,  leaving  the  horse  to  be  cared  for  by  other 
hands,  he  dived  into  the  nearest  cab  and  instructed 
the  driver  to  follow  the  sleigh,  and  on  no  account  to 
let  it  get  away  from  him. 

"He'll  be  a  good  one  if  he  slips  me!"  was  the 
driver's  assertion,  which  he  began  to  make  good  by 
sending  the  cab  forward  at  a  swinging  pace. 

Frank,  looking  from  the  cab  door,  beheld  the  sleigh 


The  Abduction  of  Inza.  223 

again.  It  had  reentered  a  street  running  parallel  with 
Chapel  and  was  flying  on. 

"I  never  saw  anything  quite  so  queer,"  was  Frank's 
conclusion.  "If  the  man  isn't  crazy,  it  looks  as  if  he 
wants  me  to  follow  him." 

"There  it  goes!"  called  cabby.  "Shall  I  just  fol- 
low it,  or  try  to  catch  it?" 

"Try  to  catch  it!" 

"Ga-ed  up!" 

The  whip  cracked,  and  the  hackney  stretched  out 
at  a  gallop. 

It  was  a  strange  chase  through  the  New  Haven 
streets — a  chase  that  began  to  draw  attention.  The 
sleigh  was  keeping  to  the  less-frequented  thorough- 
fares, apparently  for  the  double  reason  of  attracting 
less  notice  and  of  getting  better,  and  therefore  faster, 
sleighing.  On  Chapel  Street  the  wear  of  travel  and 
traffic  had  well-nigh  dissipated  the  snow. 

The  darkness  of  fast-gathering  night  had  deepened, 
but  the  streets  were  fairly  well  lighted,  and  the  cabman 
found  no  great  difficulty  in  keeping  the  sleigh  in  view, 
though  he  could  not  overtake  it. 

Frank's  alarm  increased.  There  were  no  indications 
that  Inza  was  calling  to  any  one  for  help,  and  this 
strange  silence  could  mean  nothing  to  him  but  that 
she  was  unconscious  and  unable  to  call. 

More  and  more  he  was  convinced  that  Amos  Belton 
had  suddenly  become  a  raving  maniac.  He  had  al- 
ways been  considered  somewhat  peculiar.  He  was 


224  The  Abduction  of  Inza. 

dark  and  taciturn,  making  few  friendships  and  seeking 
none. 

The  fact  that  he  had  some  time  before  fallen  wildly 
in  love  with  Inza  Burrage  was  a  matter  of  common 
report.  Belton  had  not  taken  pains  to  conceal  his  pas- 
sion, and  on  more  than  one  occasion  he  had  annoyed 
the  girl  by  thrusting  himself  into  her  company. 

"Overtake  the  sleigh!"  Frank  called  to  the  driver. 
"I  will  pay  you  well  for  it." 

The  command  was  easy  to  give,  but  not  easy  to 
carry  out.  The  driver  had  been  doing  his  best. 

Now  and  then  people  ran  out  of  their  stores  or 
gathered  in  groups  on  the  corners  as  pursued  and  pur- 
suer tore  by.  Not  another  policeman  had  Frank  seen, 
and  no  one  made  an  attempt  to  stop  the  sleigh,  which 
was  now  approaching  the  waterside  and  the  wharves. 

The  ride  across  the  city  had  been  made  in  an  in- 
credibly short  time,  in  spite  of  the  zigzagging  char- 
acter of  the  route. 

Frank  kept  the  cab  door  open  most  of  the  time, 
ready  to  spring  out  if  there  was  any  advantage  thus 
to  be  gained.  The  part  of  the  city  they  were  now  in 
was  not  as  well  lighted  nor  as  thickly  populated  as  that 
they  were  leaving. 

Again  the  sleigh  took  a  side  street  and  Frank  ob- 
tained a  look  at  the  occupants.  The  man  was  sitting 
bolt  upright,  holding  the  reins,  and  the  girl  was  ap- 
parently leaning  against  his  shoulder.  Her  long  si- 
lence had  greatly  increased  Frank's  alarm  and  anxiety. 


The  Abduction  of  Inza.  225 

Inza  would  not  remain  in  so  passive  a  state  unless  she 
were  unconscious. 

The  cab  flew  round  the  corner,  taking  the  side  street 
with  the  wheels  tipping.  Again  the  sleigh  shifted  its 
course,  going  straight  toward  one  of  the  wharves. 
The  driver  was  evidently  familiar  with  the  streets  and 
locality. 

"He  has  some  desperate  plan  in  his  crazy  mind," 
was  Frank's  conclusion,  "and  he  has  studied  the  thing 
out  in  advance  with  all  the  cunning  of  insanity.  But 
he  will  not  be  able  to  go  much  farther  in  this  direc- 
tion." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   FATE   OF   SANTENEL. 

There  was  no  light  on  the  long  wharf  down  which 
the  sleigh  was  driven. 

"We've  got  him  now!"  said  the  driver,  twisting 
round  on  his  seat  and  speaking  to  Frank,  who  was 
again  looking  out  of  the  cab  door. 

"Unless  he  goes  into  the  water!"  was  Frank's 
startled  thought.  "A  lunatic  may  be  expected  to  do 
anything." 

He  saw  the  sleigh  reach  the  end  of  the  wharf  and 
come  to  a  stop  at  the  side  of  the  wharf  building,  then 
beheld  the  driver  alight. 

A  scream  came  as  the  driver  roughly  pulled  the 
muffled  figure  out  after  him. 

Frank  leaned  half  out  of  the  cab,  ready  to  jump 
to  the  ground.  The  cabman  gave  the  horse  an  extra 
cut  when  he  heard  the  scream,  and  the  cab  tore  along 
like  mad. 

But  the  man  who  had  been  in  the  s.  Jgh  was  quick 
of  movement.  He  dragged  the  reeling  figure  toward 
the  water. 

Then  for  the  first  time  Frank  saw  a  large  steam- 
launch  tied  up  at  the  wharf.  Toward  this  the  man 
hurried.  The  place  was  so  dark  that  Frank  could  not 
see  the  faces  of  those  he  was  pursuing,  and  when  the 


The  Fate  of  Santenel.  227 

cab  reached  the  spot  occupied  by  the  sleigh  the  cabman 
drew  in,  fearing  to  risk  his  horse  farther. 

Frank  sprang  out  like  a  flash  and  pursued  the  man 
on  foot,  leaping  across  the  wharf  with  reckless  bounds. 

"Stop!"  he  called.     "Stop,  you  villain!" 

Again  that  scream  came  to  urge  him  on;  and,  turn- 
ing the  corner  of  the  low  building,  he  saw  the  man 
roughly  bundle  his  half -inanimate  burden  into  the 
steam-launch.  The  man  tumbled  in  also,  and  both 
instantly  disappeared. 

It  looked  clear  to  Frank  that  Amos  Belton  had 
previously  placed  the  launch  there  to  aid  him  in  his 
crazy  scheme.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  he 
sprang  from  the  wharf  to  the  launch.  The  summer 
awning  had  been  removed,  and  the  little  deck  was  like 
that  of  a  small  yacht. 

A  door,  seeming  to  lead  into  a  companionway  or 
cabin,  was  open  before  him,  and  into  this  Frank 
pushed,  sure  that  Inza  and  her  abductor  had  vanished 
through  it. 

He  found  himself  in  total  darkness,  except  for  the 
light  that  came  in  through  the  door.  Outside  on  the 
wharf  he  heard  the  trample  of  horses'  feet  and  the 
voice  of  the  cabman  shouting  some  question  after  him. 

Not  taking  time  to  strike  a  match,  Frank  pushed 
straight  ahead,  feeling  out  before  him  with  his  hands. 
In  a  moment  he  came  against  a  wall,  which  seemed  to 
bar  his  farther  progress  in  that  direction. 

"Inza!"  he  called.     "Inza!" 

There  was  no  answer.    He  heard  the  voice  of  the 


228  The  Fate  of  Santenel. 

cabman  again,  then  felt  a  footfall  jar  the  launch.  Ap- 
parently the  cabman  had  leaped  to  the  deck.  The  next 
instant  Frank  found  himself  in  total  darkness. 

To  his  astonishment,  he  also  heard  the  exhaust  of 
a  steam-pipe,  and  felt  the  launch  tremble  as  it  began 
to  get  under  way. 

He  stood  stock-still,  with  wildly  beating  heart.  Ap- 
parently the  crazy  student  had  made  him  a  prisoner 
and  was  putting  the  launch  in  motion,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  running  it  out  of  the  harbor. 

"Well,  he  can't  hold  me  in  here !"  was  Frank's  fierce 
declaration.  "And  I  can't  risk  any  delay  in  getting 
out." 

He  again  shouted  Inza's  name,  and  heard  only  the 
exhaust  of  the  pipe. 

"That  was  not  the  cabman  who  leaped  on  deck," 
was  his  conclusion.  "It  was  Belton,  who  came  round 
there  to  shut  me  in.  I  hope  the  cabman  will  lose  no 
time  in  giving  the  alarm!" 

Realizing  that  he  was  quivering  with  excitement, 
and  that  he  needed  a  cool  mind  now  if  ever,  Frank 
stood  still  in  the  darkness,  gathering  together  the 
tangled  thread  of  conjecture  and  evidence. 

Then  he  coolly  took  a  match  from  his  pocket,  struck 
it,  and  looked  about  the  room.  It  was  very  small, 
with  a  door  leading  toward  the  stern  of  the  launch. 

"Perhaps  Inza  is  beyond  that  door!"  was  his  thought 
as  the  match  flamed  up  and  then  burned  out. 

He  stepped  to  the  door,  rapped  heavily  on  it,  and 
called  Inza's  name.  As  before,  there  was  no  answer. 


The  Fate  of  Santenel.  229 

The  launch  seemed  to  be  tearing  through  the  water  at 
a  rapid  rate,  presumably  moving  down  the  harbor. 

Frank  struck  another  match,  took  a  good  look  at 
the  door,  and  kicked  on  it  heavily.  It  sprung  inward 
with  quivering  timbers,  but  withstood  the  assault. 
Again  and  again  he  kicked  on  the  door,  throwing  him- 
self also  against  it  with  his  shoulders.  He  was  be- 
coming desperate  now,  for  his  prison  walls  were 
stronger  than  he  had  at  first  supposed. 

No  better  results  came  from  an  attack  on  the  other 
door;  and,  returning  to  the  one  he  had  first  tried  to 
force,  he  flung  himself  at  it  with  so  mighty  a  leap 
and  so  irresistible  an  impetus  that  it  yielded. 

The  door  flew  from  its  hinges,  and  he  was  flung 
out  into  another  dark  little  room — flung  with  such 
heavy  force  that  he  was  almost  stunned. 

Before  he  could  get  up,  he  was  set  upon  in  the 
darkness  by  a  man,  who  seemed  to  rise  up  beside  him. 
Presumably  he  had  been  waiting  to  attack  him  if  the 
door  yielded. 

Believing  that  he  had  come  in  contact  with  Belton, 
Frank  struck  heavily  at  the  man  in  the  gloom,  think- 
ing the  best  way  to  fight  the  supposed  maniac  was  to 
knock  him  out  at  once  and  render  him  incapable  of 
further  mischief.  The  man  dodged  the  blow  and 
struck  back  with  an  enraged  snarl,  exclaiming: 

"If  you  go  out  of  this  boat  it  will  be  to  drown!" 

For  a  moment  Frank  felt  weak  and  dazed.  The 
blow  had  not  reached  him,  yet  he  fairly  reeled  against 
the  wall. 


230  The  Fate  of  Santenel. 

He  was  not  fighting  Amos  Belton,  but  Dion  San- 
tenel ! 

Could  the  man  who  looked  so  much  like  Amos  Bel- 
ton  be  Santenel,  the  hypnotist?  The  thing  seemed 
impossible,  yet  Merriwell  believed  it  true. 

Another  conviction  came  to  him.  Santenel  had  not 
abducted  Inza  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  her  away 
or  harming  her,  but  to  draw  him  into  this  trap,  know- 
ing that  he  would  follow  Inza  to  whatever  point  she 
might  be  taken. 

"You  again,  Santenel!"  Frank  hissed,  lunging  at 
the  dimly  seen  form  of  his  enemy. 

"So  you  know  me?"  screamed  Santenel.  "You  tri- 
umphed the  other  day;  it  is  my  turn  now!" 

The  struggle  that  followed  was  fierce  in  the  ex- 
treme. Santenel's  catlike  eyes  seemed  able  to  pene- 
trate the  gloom.  Raging  like  a  madman,  he  bounded 
to  and  fro,  striking  with  the  quickness  of  a  rattlesnake. 
Twice  his  fist  found  Frank's  face,  each  time  Santenel 
dodging  back  and  ducking  in  the  darkness  in  time  to 
escape  a  counter-blow. 

The  launch  was  speeding  through  the  water. 

"Where  is  Inza?"  Frank  demanded,  as  he  leaped  in 
between  these  blows.  "Tell  me,  you  scoundrel,  or  I'll 
choke  the  life  out  of  you!" 

Santenel's  laugh  was  almost  maniacal. 

"Food  for  fishes!"  he  cried.  "What  you  will  be 
mighty  soon!" 

Then  the  hypnotist,  again  ducking  and  dodging,  re- 


The  Fate  of  Santenel.  231 

newed  the  fight  with  a  vindictiveness  which  Merriwell 
had  never  seen  equaled. 

Notwithstanding  that  the  gloom  seemed  to  favor 
Santenel,  Frank  at  length  succeeded  in  landing  a  blow 
that  knocked  the  hypnotist  against  the  wall.  He  went 
against  it  with  a  thud,  dropped  downward  as  if  fall- 
ing in  a  limp  heap,  then  straightened  half  up  and 
pitched  toward  a  door  which  opened  to  the  little  deck. 

Before  Frank  could  take  advantage  of  his  success- 
ful blow  Santenel  had  drawn  his  thin  body  through 
this  door  and  was  scrambling  out  of  the  place. 

Frank  lunged  and  caught  the  man  by  the  coat  as  he 
gained  the  deck.  But  the  hypnotist  slipped  out  of 
the  garment,  leaving  it  in  Frank's  hands. 

Merjiwell  sprang  after  him,  intending  to  catch  him 
and  force  him  to  tell  what  had  become  of  Inza.  He 
did  not  believe  that  Inza  had  fallen  or  been  thrown 
overboard,  in  spite  of  Santenel's  horrible  declaration 
that  she  had  become  "food  for  fishes." 

Santenel  tried  to  dive  into  and  through  the  other 
door,  the  one  Frank  had  first  entered,  but  it  stuck  fast 
or  was  locked.  Before  the  hypnotist  could  get  it 
open  Frank  was  again  on  him,  and  the  struggle  that 
had  raged  below  deck  was  again  renewed. 

"Tell  me  what  you  have  done  with  her!"  Frank 
hissed,  getting  Santenel  by  the  throat  and  pushing  his 
head  backward.  The  fiend  tried  to  wriggle  away. 
Failing  in  this,  he  struggled  to  trip  his  assailant,  in 
which  effort  he  threw  himself  from  his  feet,  and,  fall- 


232  The  Fate  of  Santenel. 

ing  with  his  head  against  the  deck,  was  knocked  into 
temporary  insensibility. 

Seeing  that  he  was  unconscious,  Frank  glanced 
about  for  a  rope  with  which  to  tie  him.  Finding  none, 
he  retraced  his  way  across  the  little  deck  toward  the 
stern  of  the  launch. 

A  hasty  glance  at  the  lights  of  the  city  showed  that 
the  launch,  no  doubt  with  wheel  tied,  was  steaming 
straight  out  toward  the  channel.  Already  it  was  far 
from  the  wharf  it  had  so  recently  left. 

"Inza!"  Frank  began  to  call,  as  he  kicked  about 
with  his  feet  for  a  rope.  "Inza!  Inza!" 

There  was  no  answer.  A  horrible  fear  weighted 
him  down.  He  wanted  to  begin  an  immediate  search 
for  her,  but  he  dared  not  until  Santenel  was  safely  se- 
cured; for  the  desperate  hypnotist  was  capable  of 
doing  anything  as  soon  as  he  recovered. 

When  no  answer  came  to  his  cries,  Frank  was  about 
to  strike  a  match  and  descend  into  the  interior  of  the 
launch  and  make  a  search,  regardless  of  Santenel. 
But  at  this  moment  the  man  recovered  consciousness 
and  began  an  effort  to  get  on  his  feet. 

Frank  rushed  toward  him. 

"Stop !"  he  shouted,  for  he  fancied  he  saw  Santenel 
drawing  a  weapon. 

For  reply,  the  villain  hurled  a  heavy  iron  bolt  at 
him.  Seeing  this  had  missed,  for  Frank  rushed 
straight  on,  the  hypnotist,  with  his  mind  apparently 
muddled  by  his  fall,  gave  a  shriek,  climbed  to  his  feet, 
and  leaped  over  the  rail  into  the  water. 


The  Fate  of  Santenel.  233 

Frank  stood  still. 

"Retribution!"  he  muttered.  "Food  for  fishes!  It 
is  the  hand  of  outraged  justice,  and  it  has  fallen  at 
last!" 

For  one  brief  moment  he  saw  the  dark  face  tossed 
to  the  top  of  a  wave ;  then  it  disappeared.  The  launch 
plowed  on  through  the  water. 

"The  last  of  Santenel!"  was  Frank's  hoarse  excla- 
mation. 

In  spite  of  his  fears  concerning  Inza,  he  stood  star- 
ing at  the  spot  where  the  man's  head  had  vanished, 
though  the  darkness  hid  everything  in  that  direction 
now. 

Then  the  memory  of  Inza  dragged  at  his  heart- 
strings and  pulled  him  away  from  the  launch's  side. 

"Inza!  Inza!"  he  called  again  and  again. 

There  was  no  response.  The  sweat  came  out  on 
his  face  and  his  limbs  trembled. 

"Heavens !    Can  it  be  possible  the  man  spoke  true?" 

He  groped  his  way  into  the  vessel  in  search  of  a 
lamp.  Then,  remembering  that  the  launch  was  steam- 
ing out  toward  the  bay,  he  stopped  this  hunt,  made  his 
way  to  the  tiny  engine,  slowed  it  down  and  turned  the 
boat  about  with  a  whirl  of  the  wheel. 

Having  done  this,  with  a  lantern  he  had  discovered 
he  resumed  his  search  for  Inza.  But  she  was  not  to 
be  found.  What  he  had  thought  two  cabins  proved 
to  be  a  tiny  cabin  and  a  bunk-room.  These  seemed 
to  be  the  only  rooms  or  semblance  of  rooms  in  the  ves- 
sel. 


234  The  Fate  of  Santenel. 

Sick  at  heart,  with  that  awful  fear  stunning  his 
brain,  Frank  now  took  charge  of  the  launch  and  sent 
it  back  toward  the  wharf,  but  guiding  it  so  that  it 
would  pass  over  or  near  the  spot  where  Santenel  had 
thrown  himself  into  the  water. 

The  gloom  on  the  water  was  so  great  that  he  could 
see  nothing  but  the  waves,  which  were  black  and  oily. 
There  was  no  sign  of  Santenel. 

Then,  with  his  fears  for  Inza  driving  him  almost 
frantic,  Frank  began  to  zigzag  the  launch  so  as  to 
cover  a  greater  area  of  surface.  There  seemed  a 
bare  possibility,  if  Inza  had  fallen  overboard  or  been 
thrown  overboard,  that  she  might  have  caught  hold 
of  something  and  sustained  herself  in  the  water. 

"She  couldn't  hold  on  long,  though!"  he  groaned. 
"The  villain  told  the  truth !  She  is  dead !" 

He  grew  cold  at  the  thought,  his  heart  seeming  to 
turn  to  ice.  But  a  little  while  before,  Inza,  handsome, 
spirited,  joyous,  had  been  applauding  the  playing  of 
the  hockey-teams  on  the  lake.  Now,  as  he  believed, 
she  had  passed  suddenly  from  the  land  of  the  living. 

"And  her  murderer  has  gone  with  her.  Yes;  he 
was  her  murderer,  even  if  he  did  not  throw  her  over- 
board." 

Frank  sat  as  if  frozen,  his  eyes  staring  almost 
blankly  at  the  lights  on  the  wharf  toward  which  the 
launch  was  now  moving.  He  heard  nothing  of  the 
voices  rising  on  the  wharf. 

As  he  drew  nearer  he  became  conscious  that  Bink 
and  Danny  were  dancing  about  in  the  glow  of  a  Ian- 


The  Fate  of  Santenel.  235 

tern,  howling  and  exclaiming.  Usually  the  little  fel- 
lows amused  him.  Now  he  felt  that  he  did  not  want 
to  see  them  or  hear  them.  Their  seeming  levity  jarred 
on  him. 

As  in  a  dream,  Frank  guided  the  launch  up  to  the 
wharf.  He  scarcely  observed  the  group  of  friends 
who  had  gathered  there,  nor  the  cab  and  cabman  in 
the  background.  Nor  did  he  notice  the  questions  and 
exclamations  that  were  being  shouted  at  him. 

But  as  the  launch  grated  against  the  wharf  he  pulled 
himself  together  by  a  great  effort  and  looked  with 
wild  eyes  at  the  crowd. 

The  blood  which  had  seemed  to  be  congealed  round 
his  heart  rushed  back  in  a  hot  wave. 

Inza  Burrage  stood  in  the  forefront  of  the  crowd, 
alive,  well,  unharmed! 

The  last  plot  of  Dion  Santenel  had  been  extremely 
desperate — such  a  plot  as  the  brains  of  a  madman 
alone  could  devise. 

Bert  Dashleigh  had  come  near  revealing  it  when  he 
blundered  into  that  house  on  Whitney  Avenue  and  be- 
held the  youth  disguised  as  a  girl  and  made  up  to  look 
like  Inza. 

Santenel  had  carried  Inza  in  the  sleigh  from  Lake 
Whitney  into  the  city;  but,  having  choked  her  into 
insensibility,  he  dropped  her  out  in  an  alley,  at  which 
point  the  youth  dressed  to  resemble  her  took  her  place 
in  the  sleigh.  It  had  been  Santenel,  disguised  as 
Amos  Belton,  and  this  youth  whom  Merriwell  chased 
through  the  city  streets. 


236  The  Fate  of  Santenel. 

Without  doubt  the  disguised  youth  concealed  him- 
self somewhere  in  the  darkness  of  the  old  buildings 
on  the  wharf. 

Santenel's  plot  was  no  doubt  murderous,  inspired 
by  feelings  of  baffled  hate  and  a  desire  for  revenge. 

Three  days  afterward  a  body  identified  as  his  floated 
to  the  wharf  where  the  launch  had  laid,  and  was  found 
there  by  a  boatman. 


"I  have  decided  not  to  try  to  force  Dade  Morgan 
out  of  Yale,"  said  Frank,  talking  over  the  situation 
afterward  with  Bart  Hodge.  I  have  been  in  a  dilemma 
about  it.  The  fellow  is  almost  a  genius  in  some  lines. 
He  might  go  headlong  to  the  bad  if  I  should  move 
against  him,  while  a  little  leniency  and  kindness  may 
let  him  see  where  he  stands  and  turn  him  in  the  right 
direction.  With  Santenel  dead,  I  see  no  reason  why 
he  should  attempt  anything  further  against  me." 

"I  guess  you  are  right,"  Hodge  admitted.  "There 
seems  to  be  no  reason  why  he  should  strike  at  you 
again.  But  it's  awfully  hard  for  a  rattlesnake  to  for- 
get that  it  is  a  rattlesnake." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
IN    FRANK'S   ROOM. 

"I  say,  Merriwell,"  cried  Jack  Ready,  strolling  into 
Frank's  room,  his  hat  set  rakishly  over  one  ear  and 
his  hands  thrust  into  his  trousers  pockets,  "do  you 
know  what  they  call  a  young  black  cat  in  England  ?" 

"Why,  I've  been  in  England,"  said  Frank,  rising 
from  his  open  trunk,  which  he  was  packing,  "but  I 
don't  believe  I  can  tell  what  they  call  a  young  black 
cat  over  there." 

"Why,"  chuckled  the  visitor,  with  great  satisfac- 
tion, "they  call  her  'kitty,  kitty,'  just  the  same  as  we 
do  on  this  side  of  the  water.  Oh,  Merry,  you're  a 
good  thing!" 

Frank  laughed  heartily,  Ready's  jovial  mood  being 
contagious. 

"You're  steadily  growing  sharper  and  sharper,  old 
man,"  said  Merry.  "You're  becoming  dangerous  to 
fool  with  of  late." 

"Oh,  yes,"  nodded  Jack,  striking  a  pose,  with  one 
hand  thrust  into  the  opening  of  his  vest.  "The  mantle 
of  Bink  Stubbs  hath  descended  upon  me  and  I  am  'it.' 
I  am  making  enemies  in  a  merry  way  with  my  per- 
siflage. Sprung  that  on  two  other  fellows  this  morn- 
ing. One  told  me  it  was  so  old  it  had  whiskers,  while 
the  other  got  his  back  up  and  wanted  to  t'ump  me  in 


238  In  Frank's  Room. 

my  mild,  blue  eye.  This  being  a  practical  joker  is  get- 
ting to  be  a  great  responsibility,  and  I  feel  the  strain. 
I  am  glad  vacation  is  at  hand,  as  it  will  serve  to  give 
me  a  short  breathing-spell.  Packing  your  paper  col- 
lars and  pajamas?  Leave  to-morrow,  I  suppose? 
Whither  do  you  fly?" 

"Yes,  I  leave  in  the  morning,"  nodded  Frank.  "Got 
to  run  down  to  New  York  to  attend  to  some  business 
concerning  my  play,  'True  Blue.' ' 

"Which  way  after  that?" 

"Well,  Starbright  has  invited  me  to  visit  him." 

"I'm  another.    Going  to  accept?" 

"I  may." 

"Then,  by  all  the  eternal  gods  of  Olympus!  I'm 
going  to  try  to  get  round  there  myself.  You  hear  me 
chirp!  You  catch  the  silvery  cadence  of  my  voice!" 

"He  invited  you?" 

"Did  he?  Why,  he  fell  on  my  neck  and  wept  like 
a  brother  at  thoughts  of  parting.  We  mingled  our 
weeps,  and  we  spilled  brine  enough  to  start  another 
ocean.  It  was  sad,  and  touching,  and  sloppy.  He 
said,  'Ready,  old  man,  I  hate  to  leave  you — alive.'  I 
said,  'Starbright,  my  baby,  you're  the  only  freshman 
for  whom  I  entertain  the  slightest  feeling  of  affection, 
and  I've  always  felt  for  you — with  a  brickbat.'  It 
was  a  strange,  weird  spectacle — a  soph  and  a  freshie 
weeping  in  each  other's  arms.  Any  minute  I  expected 
he  would  toss  me  down  and  jump  on  me,  but  he  did 
nothing  of  the  kind,  and  it  has  dawned  on  me  that 
the  fellow  really  likes  me  and  really  meant  it  when 


In  Frank's  Room  239 

he  invited  me  to  run  over  and  visit  him  with  the  rest 
of  the  gang  during  the  holidays." 

"Did  you  accept?" 

"Not  on  the  spot;  but  now — now  I  know  you  are 
going — I  may.  Who's  going?" 

"Well,  I  understand  Browning  is  one — and 
Hodge." 

"Browning's  all  right,  but  Hodge — well,  he's  a  good 
fighter  when  that  is  necessary,  but  he  doesn't  add  much 
jolliness  to  a  gathering.  A  joke  always  seems  to  rub 
him  the  wrong  way." 

There  came  a  sound  of  many  feet  and  voices  out- 
side, the  door  was  flung  open,  and  Bruce  Browning 
came  in,  followed  by  Bart  Hodge,  Dick  Starbright, 
Bert  Dashleigh,  and  Greg  Carker.  Bruce  made 
straight  for  a  comfortable  couch,  on  which  he 
dropped,  brought  forth  a  clay  pipe  and  began  to  fill 
it.  The  others  greeted  Merriwell,  Hodge  saying: 

"Thought  we'd  come  up,  Frank,  just  to  get  the 
crowd  together  for  a  little  while  before  we  separate 
for  the  holidays.  You  don't  mind?" 

"Fellows,  I'm  delighted  to  have  you  come  in  just 
like  this,"  declared  Frank.  "Make  yourselves  at  home, 
every  man  of  you." 

"That's  right,"  said  Ready,  "if  you  can't  find  chairs, 
sit  right  down  on  the  carpet;  it  won't  hurt  it  much. 
What's  that  thing  you're  filling,  Browning — a  clay 
pipe?  Ye  gods  and  little  fishes!  How  have  the 
mighty  fallen!  I  didn't  think  you'd  come  down  to 
that!  How  did  it  happen?" 


240  In  Frank's  Room. 

"Well,"  grunted  Bruce,  getting  into  a  comfortable 
position,  as  he  lighted  the  pipe,  "you  see  even  a  clay 
pipe  has  its  advantages." 

"What  are  they?" 

"Why,  if  you  let  one  fall  on  the  pavement  or  a  hard 
floor,  you  don't  have  to  bother  to  pick  it  up,"  ex- 
claimed the  laziest  man  in  Yale,  causing  a  laugh  at  his 
expense. 

"That  surely  is  a  bad  case  of  ennui,"  said  Carker 
reprovingly. 

"What's  that?"  yawned  Browning.  "How  do  you 
define  ennui?" 

"I  can  define  it,"  declared  Ready,  at  once.  "It's 
when  you're  tired  of  doing  nothing  and  too  lazy  to  do 
something." 

"That's  what's  ailed  Bruce  ever  since  the  football 
season  closed,"  nodded  Frank.  "I  had  begun  to  fancy 
that  Bruce  had  reformed — that  he'd  put  laziness  be- 
hind him  forever.  Why,  he  trained  like  a  slave,  and 
he  worked  like  a  fiend  to  reduce  flesh.  He  was  in  the 
very  pink  of  condition  the  day  he  went  onto  the  field 
in  the  Harvard  game.  Looked  healthy  and  hand- 
some." 

"Thanks,"  rumbled  the  lazy  giant.  "Bow  to  the 
gentleman  for  me,  please,  Ready.  It's  too  much  of 
a  job  for  me  to  rise.  I  know  I  was  a  perfect  Apollo, 
but  the  task  of  being  an  Apollo  was  too  great  a  strain. 
I  had  to  throw  it  up." 

"But  not  till  we  had  downed  Harvard  beautifully," 


In  Frank's  Room.  241 

said  Starbright,  his  fair,  handsome  face  glowing. 
"Oh,  they  thought  they  had  us!  They  came  mighty 
near  it  in  the  first  half,  and " 

"Gave  me  heart-disease,"  put  in  Dashleigh.  "I'll 
never  get  over  it.  Sometimes  I  wake  up  nights  now, 
yelling,  'Three  yards  more  and  Harvard'll  have  a 
touch-down !  Hold  'em,  boys — hold  'em !' ' 

"That  was  Bart's  constant  cry,"  said  Browning. 
"He  begged  us  separately  and  collectively  to  hold  'em, 
but  the  only  thing  that  saved  the  day  was  Merry's 
appearance  on  the  field  at  the  close  of  the  game.  They 
had  us  going  all  right  in  that  half,  and  they'd  have 
scored  in  another  minute." 

"But  you  made  a  gallant  fight,"  said  Frank,  his 
eyes  flashing — "a  fight  to  be  remembered  always.  I 
am  proud  of  every  man  on  the  team." 

"Yah!"  muttered  Hodge  sourly.  "Are  you  proud 
of  that  dog  Morgan?  I  don't  believe  it!" 

"In  a  certain  way,  I  am  proud  of  him,"  asserted 
Merry  positively. 

"But  you  were  ready  to  wring  his  everlasting  neck 
a  short  time  ago.  You  announced  your  intention  of 
kicking  him  out  of  Yale." 

"And  you  could  have  done  it,  all  right,"  put  in 
Carker.  "He  heard  the  rumbling  of  the  approaching 
earthquake,  and  he " 

"Oh,  choke  that  earthquake  business !"  cut  in  Ready. 
"Don't  use  the  expression;  reserve  it  for  your  social- 
istic lectures." 


242  In  Frank's  Room. 

"Fellows,"  said  Frank,  "I  admit  that  I  was  ready 
and  resolved  to  crush  Dade  Morgan  a  short  time  ago." 

"But  you  have  not  crushed  him,"  spoke  Hodge. 
"Why  was  it?  Tell  us.  We  want  to  know." 

"I  cannot  explain  everything,  for  it  will  take  too 
much  time  if  I  do;  but  I  will  say  this  much,  I  dis- 
covered that  Morgan  was  not  wholly  responsible  for 
his  actions  toward  me.  Another  will  than  his  own 
controlled  and  directed  him.  This  may  seem  too  re- 
markable to  be  true,  but  it  is  a  fact.  The  one  who  con- 
trolled him  hated  me  with  a  hatred  that  only  death 
could  terminate.  If  Morgan  rebelled,  this  monster 
put  on  the  screws  and  forced  his  tool  to  perform  his 
work.  Mind  you,  I  do  not  claim  that  Dade  Morgan 
naturally  would  be  perfect  or  even  a  fine  fellow;  but 
he  was  led  to  the  very  verge  of  murder  by  the  wretch 
who  impelled  him  to  his  acts.  Morgan  in  his  right 
mind  and  being  his  own  master  would  never  have  gone 
that  far." 

"Perhaps  not,"  muttered  Hodge;  "but  I  believe 
he'd  do  anything." 

"I  think,"  Merry  pursued,  "that  there  came  a  time 
when  Morgan  was  anxious  to  cease  troubling  me.  I 
have  thought  the  whole  matter  over,  and  I  have  de- 
cided that  I  know  when  that  time  arrived.  Then  it 
was  that  the  monster  behind  him  put  on  the  screws  and 
forced  him  forward  against  his  will." 

"And,  if  you  do  not  wind  Morgan  up,"  said  Dash- 


In  Frank's  Room.  243 

leigh,  "may  not  this  same  monster  continue  his  dirty 
work?" 

Frank  shook  his  head,  with  a  strange,  grim  smile 
of  satisfaction. 

"Neither  Morgan  nor  myself  will  be  troubled  by 
him  any  more,"  he  declared.  "That  man  is  dead." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

WHAT     ELSIE     SAID. 

"Say,  old  fellow,"  said  Ready,  edging  up  to  Brown- 
ing, "lend  me  fifty,  will  you?" 

"Fifty  what?"  grunted  Bruce. 

"Why,  fifty  dollars.    I " 

"Quit  your  joking." 

"I'm  not  joking.     I  need  the  money.     I'm  broke." 

"My  dear  boy,"  said  Browning,  "you're  not  broke; 
you're  cracked.  Lend  you  fifty  dollars!  I  see  my- 
self!" 

"I  am  desperate,"  asserted  Jack  wildly.  "There 
is  no  telling  what  a  man  will  do  when  he  needs 
money." 

"That's  so,"  admitted  Bruce.  "Look  at  all  the  fel- 
lows who  get  married." 

"Ah!"  sighed  Dashleigh,  "you  know  they  say  love 
is  blind." 

"But  as  a  rule,"  put  in  Carker  dolefully,  "marriage 
is  an  eye-opener." 

"I,"  laughed  Starbright,  who  was  sprawling  on  a 
Morris  chair,  "shall  refuse  to  be  mercenary  when  it 
comes  to  marriage,  I  shall  marry  for  beauty." 

"My  dear  boy,"  said  Frank,  "the  fellow  who  mar- 
ries for  beauty  is  usually  the  victim  of " 


What  Elsie  Said.  245 

"A  skin  game,"  interrupted  Ready.  "The  dollars 
are  good  enough  for  me." 

"Speaking  about  dollars,"  said  Bart,  "do  any  of 
you  believe  that  old  story  about  George  Washington 
throwing  a  dollar  across  the  Potomac  River?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  nodded  Merry  immediately. 
"It's  a  very  likely  story." 

"I  fail  to  see  it  in  that  light.    He  couldn't  do  it." 

"Why  not  ?  Washington  was  a  powerful  man,  and, 
besides,  a  dollar  would  go  twice  as  far  in  those  days 
as  it  will  now." 

Ready  gasped  and  dropped  with  a  crash  upon  a 
chair. 

"Fan  me!"  he  said  faintly.  "Merriwell  takes  his 
place  at  the  head  of  the  class.  I  think  I'll  have  to 
touch  him  for  the  cold  cash." 

"Why  is  it,"  questioned  Carker,  "that  people  always 
speak  of  money  as  cold  cash?" 

"I  suppose,"  said  Merry,  laughing  softly,  "it's  be- 
cause so  many  human  beings  have  a  way  of  freezing 
to  it." 

"What — again?"  howled  Ready,  popping  bolt  up- 
right and  staring  at  Frank.  "How  do  you  dare,  sir! 
In  my  presence,  too!  I  am  the  only  one  who  has  a 
right  to  do  such  things.  But,  really  and  truly,  I've  got 
to  borrow  some  spondulicks  before  I  leave  for  vaca- 
tion. Got  a  bill  from  my  tailor.  He  wrote  on  the 
bottom:  'Dear  sir,  if  you  pay  the  enclosed  bill,  you 
will  oblige  me;  if  you  don't,  I  shall  oblige  you.'  Now, 
wouldn't  that  bump  you!" 


246  What  Elsie  Said. 

"Don't  talk  of  tailors!"  grumbled  Browning. 
"You've  got  a  regular  hand-me-down  suit  on." 

"Bah !"  retorted  Jack  instantly.  "That  suit  of  yours 
reminds  me  of  an  unripe  watermelon." 

"Why?" 

"Because  it's  so  different.  One  isn't  fit  to  cut,  and 
the  other  isn't  cut  to  fit.  Refuse  me!  Wouldn't  let 
me  have  a  small  loan,  eh?  Well,  you  shall  repent  in 
sackcloth  and  ashes.  Yea,  verily!" 

Carker  began  whistling  mournfully  to  himself. 

"Listen  to  that,"  murmured  Frank,  nudging  Ready. 
"I  wonder  if  he  whistles  to  himself  when  he's  alone." 

"Prithee  I  cannot  tell,"  answered  Jack.  "I've  never 
been  with  him  when  he  was  alone." 

"Fellows,"  said  Starbright  soberly,  "I  know  a 
scheme  whereby  we  can  all  make  money." 

"Unwind  it  to  us !"  cried  Ready. 

"Let's  hear  it,"  urged  Hodge. 

"We're  listening,"  said  Dashleigh. 

"Go  on,"  urged  Browning. 

"It's  simple,"  assured  Dick,  still  with  perfect  grav- 
ity. ''All  we  have  to  do  is  perfume  our  paper  money." 

"Hey?"  said  Carker,  who  had  stopped  whistling. 

"What?"  grunted  Browning,  ceasing  to  puff  at  his 
pipe. 

"What  are  you  giving  us?"  muttered  Hodge. 

"That's  right,"  declared  the  fair-haired  freshman. 
"You  see  by  perfuming  our  paper  money  we  can  add 
a  scent  to  every  dollar." 


What  Elsie  Said.  247 

Frank  laughed  again,  while  Ready  thumped  him- 
self behind  the  ear  with  his  clenched  fist. 

"Another  rival!"  he  groaned.  "This  is  driving  me 
to  suicide.  And  still  I  need  that  money." 

"Why,  my  dear  boy,"  smiled  Frank,  "I  heard  that 
you  won  some  money  from  Skelding  last  night." 

"Oh,  no!"  Jack  hastened  to  deny.  "No  money;  I 
merely  won  a  few  bets  from  him." 

There  came  a  rap  on  the  door. 

"Come  in,"  called  Merry. 

But  every  fellow  in  that  room,  Browning  included, 
sprang  to  his  feet  when  the  door  opened  and  they 
saw  Inza  Burrage  and  her  father  just  outside. 

"Perhaps  we're  intruding?"  suggested  Mr.  Burrage 
apologetically. 

"Oh,  no !"  exclaimed  Merry.    "Come  right  in !" 

He  sprang  forward  and  greeted  Inza  warmly  with 
outstretched  hand.  She  never  before  had  looked  so 
stunning  and  dashing.  At  least,  Frank  thought  so. 

"We  thought  we'd  come  round  and  call  a  moment 
before  you  left,  Frank,"  she  said,  in  her  well-modu- 
lated, musical  voice.  "You  go " 

"To-morrow.  I  was  packing  my  trunk  when  the 
fellows  strolled  in.  I'm  glad  you  came,  Inza." 

He  drew  her  into  the  room,  and  the  boys  bowed, 
greeting  with  enthusiasm  the  former  mascot  of  the 
crew.  She  spoke  to  them  all,  but  it  seemed  that  even 
a  little  more  color  mounted  to  her  flushed  cheeks  when 
Starbright,  the  handsome  giant  freshman,  bowed  low 
before  her. 


248  What  Elsie  Said. 

And  keen  eyes  might  have  seen  that  Dick  was  not 
quite  at  ease,  though  he  made  a  desperate  effort  to 
appear  thus. 

Mr.  Burrage  shook  hands  with  the  boys,  having  a 
pieasant  word  for  each  one,  but  the  arrival  of  Inza 
put  an  end  to  their  free-and-easy  badinage  and  joking. 
They  gathered  about  her  in  an  admiring  circle,  listen- 
ing to  every  word  she  uttered,  each  feeling  in  his 
heart  that  she  was  a  most  bewilderingly  handsome  and 
adorable  young  lady.  In  her  presence,  even  Carker 
forgot  to  be  pessimistic  and  melancholy,  and  not  once 
did  he  speak  of  the  "rumble  of  the  approaching  earth- 
quake." 

But  Starbright  hung  on  her  words  in  a  breathless 
way,  and  his  heart  leaped  when  she  turned  toward  him 
with  one  of  her  dazzling  smiles,  or  spoke  to  him  di- 
rectly, and  he  felt  that  he  was  being  robbed  of  his 
just  due,  if  for  a  little  time  she  gave  him  no  special 
attention. 

Dick  Starbright  knew  that  Frank  and  Inza  were 
fast  friends,  he  knew  they  were  almost  sweethearts, 
he  knew  Inza  would  not  be  there  but  for  Merry;  yet 
since  the  day  he  first  saw  this  dark-eyed,  black-haired 
radiant  queen  of  a  girl  something  he  could  not  hold 
in  check  had  been  growing  in  his  breast — growing, 
growing,  growing.  He  sought  to  tell  himself  that  it 
was  no  more  than  mere  admiration  for  an  unusually 
handsome  young  lady,  and  he  sought  to  believe  that 
he  could  readily  and  easily  forget  her;  but  she  crept 
into  his  dreams  with  her  stately  grace,  her  dark,  be- 


What  Elsie  Said.  249 

wildering  eyes,  her  laugh  that  thrilled  the  blood,  heir 
mouth  that  seemed  made  for  kisses. 

And  now,  sitting  in  Merriwell's  room,  with  Inza 
near,  his  blood  throbbed  in  his  big,  strong  body  with 
all  the  full  flood  of  healthy,  robust  youth. 

"Why  shouldn't  I  win  her  for  my  own  ?"  he  mentally 
cried. 

Then  he  looked  at  Frank  Merriwell,  and  he  be- 
lieved he  had  found  his  answer.  Contrasting  himself 
with  Frank,  he  seemed  very  immature,  despite  his  size, 
and  there  was  something  of  greenness  about  him  that 
must  count  against  him.  How  dared  he  think  for  a 
single  moment  that  he,  the  raw  youth,  could  win  from 
this  clever  and  experienced  young  man  of  the  world! 
He  was  crushed  and  abashed. 

Coming  out  of  his  trance,  Dick  found  Frank  was 
telling  Inza  of  some  photographs  he  had  taken.  She 
wished  to  see  them,  and  he  said  they  were  in  an  ad- 
joining room.  She  rose  at  once,  and  they  passed  be- 
yond some  portieres. 

Though  he  still  could  hear  her  voice  through  the 
open  door,  it  seemed  to  Dick  Starbright  that  some- 
thing went  out  of  the  sunshine,  leaving  it  dull  and 
somber,  and  there  was  a  strange  sensation  like  a  pain 
in  his  heart. 

Frank  and  Inza  chatted  over  the  pictures,  which  con- 
sisted of  a  group  of  the  Yale  football-team,  with 
Merry  the  central  figure,  and  a  number  of  snap  shots 
of  the  team  in  practise  and  at  play.  The  smell  of 


250  What  Elsie  Said. 

Browning's  pipe  pervaded  the  rooms,  and  Merry  threw 
open  a  door  leading  into  the  hall,  which  gave  a  draft. 

"I  suppose  you  are  glad  the  holidays  have  come?" 
said  Inza. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  admitted.  "You  see,  it  is  differ- 
ent with  me  than  with  other  fellows.  They  have 
homes,  and  fathers,  and  mothers,  and  brothers,  and 
sisters  to  which  they  go.  Their  fathers  and  mothers 
are  waiting  to  greet  them  with  affection,  while  their 
brothers  and  sisters  will  regard  them  with  admiration 
and  pride.  They  are  going  to  pleasant  firesides, 
Christmas  trees  and  merry  times.  I  have  no  home, 
no  mother,  sisters,  or  brothers.  True,  I  have  a  father, 
but  he  is  worn  and  old  and  strange  to  me,  for  I've 
never  seen  much  of  him.  But  I  love  him,  just  the 
same.  Poor  old  man!  He  has  suffered  much,  and 
now,  with  no  enemy  to  harass  him  further,  I  trust 
he  may  have  peace  and  happiness." 

Inza  was  touched  by  Merry's  words.  For  the  first 
time,  it  seemed,  she  fully  realized  his  unfortunate  posi- 
tion in  the  world. 

"I'm  sorry,  Frank,"  she  said,  looking  into  his  eyes. 
"But  your  play  has  given  you  money  so  that  you  might 
purchase  a  home  of  your  own,  and  your  father  has  a 
fortune.  He  could  buy  a  mansion." 

"He  might,"  admitted  Merry;  "but  he  cannot  get 
over  the  feeling  that  the  ghost  of  his  enemy  may  rise 
to  haunt  him  as  of  old,  and  he  is  the  most  restless 
person  I  ever  saw.  Were  he  a  younger  man,  I'm  sure 


What  Elsie  Said.  251 

nothing  could  keep  him  from  traveling  constantly. 
Even  now,  I  worry  for  fear  he  may  take  a  freakish 
notion  to  strike  out  suddenly  for  parts  unknown." 

"Are  you  sure  his  mind  is  just  right?" 

"I  think  it  is — now.  A  short  time  ago  I  was  not 
so  sure ;  but  never  again  will  he  fall  beneath  the  spell 
of  Brandon  Drood.  Drood  is  dead,  and  his  wicked 
career  is  ended." 

"He  was  a  dreadful  man !"  exclaimed  Inza.  "Think 
how  he  tried  to  bury  your  poor  father  alive!  He 
should  have  been  punished  for  his  awful  crimes." 

"I  am  willing  to  leave  his  soul  in  the  hands  of  One 
who  doeth  all  things  well,"  came  solemnly  from 
Merry's  lips. 

"Where  do  you  expect  to  spend  the  most  of  your 
vacation  ?" 

"Starbright  has  invited  me  to  visit  him  in  his  home, 
and  I  think  I  shall  go  there.  Then  I  am  to  meet 
father  in  New  York.  Several  of  the  fellows  are  going 
to  visit  Starbright." 

"Isn't  he  a  splendid  fellow!"  exclaimed  the  dark- 
eyed  girl  enthusiastically.  "He  is  so  big  and  grand! 
It  was  magnificent  to  see  him  tear  through  the  ene- 
my's line  in  the  football-game.  And  he's  handsome, 
too!" 

"Here!  here!"  cried  Merry  reprovingly.  "This 
will  never  do!  Why,  I  believe  you  are  interested  in 
him,  Inza!" 

His  heart  was  smitten  by  a  pang  of  jealousy,  for 
he  was  like  other  fellows  in  this  respect,  and  no  one 


252  What  Elsie  Said. 

is  flawless.  She  laughed  when  she  saw  him  looking 
at  her  almost  accusingly. 

"I  am,"  she  boldly  declared.  "Why  shouldn't  I 
be  ?  He  is  your  friend,  and  you  have  told  me  what  a 
great,  big-hearted  chap  he  is.  You  want  me  to  like 
all  of  your  friends,  don't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes;  but  there  are  different  ways  of  liking 
a  fellow,  Inza." 

"I  like  him  as  I  might  a  big,  handsome  brother." 

"Oh,  well !  that  will  do.    I  can't  object  to  that." 

"Do  you  think,"  she  said  teasingly,  "that  you  could 
object  under  any  circumstances?  If  I  really  and  truly 
fell  in  love  with  him,  could  you  object?" 

She  had  him  cornered,  and  he  knew  it. 

"Oh,  I  don't  suppose  I'd  have  a  right  to  object!"  he 
laughed,  though  that  pang  of  jealousy  still  gnawed  at 
his  heart. 

"Surely  not!"  Inza  exclaimed.  "According  to  your 
own  tell,  Dick  is  one  of  the  finest  fellows  in  the  world, 
and  were  he  to  take  a  fancy  to  me,  you  ought  to  be 
glad  and  happy.  It  would  be  your  duty  to  help  it 
along." 

He  felt  that  she  was  teasing  him,  but  still  it  was 
a  tender  spot,  and  it  made  him  squirm  a  bit. 

"Inza,"  he  said  sincerely,  "once  I  did  my  best  to 
keep  you  from  marrying  a  man  your  father  had  se- 
lected for  you,  but  a  man  you  told  me  you  did  not 
love." 

"For  which,"  she  admitted,  "I  owe  you  much.  I 
can  see  now  that  it  would  have  been  a  fatal  folly." 


What  Elsie  Said.  253 

"I  felt  that  way  about  it,  dear  girl,  and  that  was 
why  I  did  my  best  to  keep  you  from  taking  the  false 
step.  Had  I  known  you  really  and  truly  loved  him, 
I  should  have  remained  silent  In  this  case  it  is  dif- 
ferent, for  Starbright  is  worthy  of  a  fine  girl ;  but  he 
is  young  yet — even  younger  than  you,  Inza." 

"Not  much  younger.  A  year  cannot  make  much 
difference." 

"No,  not  much.  If  I  knew  Starbright  loved  you 
and  you  cared  for  him  more  than  any  one  else,  what- 
ever I  might  feel  in  my  heart,  I  would  do  my  best  to 
bring  you  together,  and  would  say,  'Bless  you,  my 
children/  " 

She  laughed  in  her  merry  way. 

"I  believe  it,  Frank,"  she  said.  "But  I  was  jolly- 
ing, that's  all.  There  is  no  danger  that  Starbright 
will  ever  care  for  me  that  way,  and  perhaps  I'd  not 
care  for  him  if  he  did.  I  am  waiting  to  be  one  of 
the  bridesmaids  when  you  are  married  to  Elsie.  I 
shall  live  and  die  an  old  maid." 

She  made  this  final  declaration  in  the  most  solemn 
manner  possible.  They  were  standing  by  a  window, 
now,  looking  out  upon  the  bare  elms  and  the  ground 
lightly  covered  with  snow,  which  had  fallen  the 
previous  night. 

"I'll  wager  something  you  do  not!"  he  exclaimed, 
leaning  over  her  shoulder. 

"What  will  you  wager?" 

"A  kiss,"  he  breathed  softly.  "And,  as  I  know  I'll 
win,  I'll  take  it  now." 


254  What  Elsie  Said. 

"Oh,  no!  don't  be  so  hasty,  sir!  I'm  not  willing 
to  confess  that  I  shall  lose  the  wager." 

"But  still,"  he  pleaded,  "for  old  times,  Inza.  You 
remember  the  far-away  days  at  Fardale?  You  re- 
member the  night  we  leaned  on  the  gate  before  your 
home,  with  the  moon  hidden  for  a  moment  behind  a 
cloud?  You  remember  what  happened  then,  Inza?" 

She  grew  strangely  pale,  and  then  the  blood  rushed 
to  her  cheeks  in  a  burning  flood. 

"I'll  never  forget,  Frank!"  she  whispered,  a  tremor 
running  over  her.  "Never!" 

Memory  took  her  back  to  that  sweet  summer  eve- 
ning of  her  girlhood  days.  It  seemed  that  she  could 
see  the  peaceful,  moonlighted  village  street  and  could 
feel  the  touch  of  the  fragrant  breeze  that  fanned  her 
cheek.  Then  Frank  was  a  handsome  cadet  at  the  lit- 
tle military  academy,  and  she  had  loved  him  with  all 
the  depth  of  her  impulsive  girlish  heart.  He  had 
kissed  her  over  the  gate  in  that  masterful,  undeniable 
way  of  his,  and  a  million  times  since  then  she  had 
thought  of  the  joy  of  that  moment. 

But  years  had  wrought  a  change  in  them  both.  Be- 
tween them  had  risen  a  pretty,  sweet-faced,  golden- 
haired  girl.  That  girl  was  Inza's  dearest  friend,  and 
sometimes  her  heart  had  cried  out  in  rebellion  against 
Elsie,  who  had  caused  Frank's  thoughts  to  stray  from 
her. 

"Those  were  happy  days,"  said  Frank  gently. 

"Yes,"  came  faintly  from  her  lips;  "happier  than  I 
have  ever  known  since." 


What  Elsie  Said.  255 

She  felt  his  arm  slip  across  her  shoulders,  and,  for 
a  moment,  she  permitted  it  to  remain  there,  little 
dreading  that  she  had  again  come  between  Frank 
and  Elsie. 

Outside  the  door  that  opened  into  the  hall — the  door 
that  Merry  opened  to  permit  fresh  air  to  sweep 
through  the  room — stood  a  blue-eyed  girl,  rooted  to 
the  floor,  gazing  in  upon  them,  her  heart  throbbing 
madly  and  painfully  in  her  breast.  It  was  Elsie,  who 
had  mounted  the  stairs,  and  she  saw  Frank  bending 
over  Inza,  heard  the  murmur  of  their  voices,  beheld 
him  put  his  arm  around  Inza's  waist — then  turned 
and  fled  noiselessly  down  the  stairs,  not  pausing  until 
she  had  reached  the  street;  and  everything  that  had 
looked  so  bright  but  a  moment  before  suddenly  seemed 
to  change. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ELSIE'S     STRANGE     FLIGHT. 

Buck  Badger  and  his  wife,  former  Winnie  Lee, 
were  in  New  Haven,  having  come  on  to  visit  Winnie's 
relatives  during  the  holidays.  Coming  up  the  stairs 
in  Vanderbilt  Hall,  they  saw  through  the  open  door- 
way Frank  and  Inza  talking  by  the  window.  At  that 
moment,  Frank  turned,  saw  them,  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion of  surprise  and  pleasure,  and  sprang  forward  with 
outstretched  hands. 

"Buck!"  he  cried.  "Is  it  possible?  And  Winnie! 
Excuse  me — Mrs.  Badger." 

"But  Winnie  still,  Frank,"  laughed  the  handsome 
young  wife,  her  face  suffused  with  color. 

Frank  had  Badger  by  the  hand,  while  Winnie  and 
Inza  rushed  into  each  other's  arms. 

"Well,  if  this  isn't  great!"  cried  Merriwell. 

"That's  whatever!"  came  from  the  lips  of  Badger, 
who  quivered  through  all  his  sturdy  frame. 

"Talk  about  surprises !    I'm  overjoyed  to  see  you !" 

"And  I,"  said  the  young  rancher,  "am  just  roaring 
glad  to  grip  the  hand  of  the  best  friend  I  ever  had  in 
all  my  life!  I  can't  say  more,  Merriwell;  but  I  mean 
that — I  mean  it !  You  were  my  best  friend.  I've  had 
time  to  think  the  old  days  here  at  Yale  all  over  and 
over  a  hundred  times,  and  I  allow  I've  come  to  see 


Elsie's  Strange  Flight.  257 

things  in  their  right  light.  I  was  an  onery  coyote,  but 
you  were  my  friend,  and  you  kept  me  from  going  to 
the  dogs.  You  gave  me  Winnie,"  he  whispered,  "the 
best  and  truest  little  wife  a  man  ever  had !  I  can  never 
repay  you  for  that,  Frank !" 

"Don't  talk  about  paying  for  anything,"  said  Mer- 
riwell.  "I  am  paid  a  thousand  times  for  anything  I 
did  for  you  by  seeing  your  happiness,  old  man.  But  I 
think  you're  giving  me  credit  for  doing  altogether  too 
much.  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  did  much  of  anything 
for  you." 

"Yes,  you  did!"  insisted  the  Kansan,  with  intense 
earnestness.  "Nobody  ever  did  so  much  for  me  be- 
sides you.  You  made  a  man  of  me !  You  might  have 
kicked  me  into  the  gutter  and  turned  me  into  a  dog,  but 
you  held  out  your  hand  and  pulled  me  up  to  the  top 
of  the  heap,  even  after  I'd  done  you  more  than  one 
onery,  mean  turn.  That's  whatever!  Nobody  but  a 
white  man  all  the  way  through  would  have  done  as 
you  did,  partner.  You  might  have  had  me  expelled 
from  Yale  in  disgrace,  and  that  would  have  turned 
my  old  man  against  me;  but,  instead  of  that,  forget- 
ting all  the  bad  things  I'd  tried  to  do  to  you,  you 
helped  me  get  started  on  the  right  trail.  I  was  pretty 
weak  in  those  times,  Merriwell;  I  know  it  now.  I 
thought  I  was  strong,  but  I  was  right  ready  to  go 
wrong.  A  little  push  from  you  would  have  sent  me 
wrong.  And  you  helped  me  win  Winnie!  That  was 
the  greatest  thing  you  ever  did  for  anybody,  partner!" 

In  that  moment  Frank  Merriwell  was  rewarded  for 


258  Elsie's  Strange  Flight. 

all  he  had  endured  at  the  hands  of  this  repentant 
young  man,  who  had  once  been  his  enemy,  and  his 
heart  was  filled  with  thankfulness  because  he  had  never 
permitted  his  resentment  and  desire  for  revenge  to 
get  the  best  of  him  and  induce  him  to  push  Badger 
down. 

With  this  thought  came  another.  He  had  been 
lenient  toward  Dade  Morgan  just  when  he  might  have 
destroyed  the  fellow  at  a  single  stroke.  It  had  seemed 
like  weakness,  after  all  Morgan  had  tried  to  do  to 
him ;  but  now  Merry  was  happy  in  the  knowledge  that 
he  had  given  Morgan  another  opportunity  and  had 
not  thrust  him  down. 

"I've  learned  one  thing,"  said  Badger,  who  seemed 
determined  to  reveal  to  Frank  all  that  his  heart  had 
taught  him  since  the  happy  day  of  his  union  with 
Winnie.  "It's  the  coward  who  tries  to  kill  his  ene- 
mies; the  brave,  strong  man  turns  his  enemies  into 
friends.  That's  whatever!" 

In  the  meantime,  in  ways  peculiar  to  budding  young 
womanhood,  Inza  and  Winnie  were  expressing  their 
delight  over  the  meeting. 

"I  didn't  know  we  should  find  you  here,  but  we 
were  speaking  of  you,"  said  Winnie.  "You  are  hand- 
somer than  ever,  Inza." 

"And  you,  Winnie,"  said  the  dark-haired  girl,  ga- 
zing at  her  friend  with  love  and  admiration,  "why, 
you're  simply  wonderful." 

"Oh,  it's  the  West  and  the  air  out  there !"  laughed 
Buck's  wife,  in  blushing  confusion. 


Elsie's  Strange  Flight.  259 

"Well,  I  think  I'll  have  to  try  that  air." 

"You  don't  need  it,  Inza;  you're  handsome  any- 
where, and  you  require  no  air  tonic.  But  how  does  it 
happen  you  are  here.  Why,  just  before  we  reached 
the  steps,  Elsie  said  it  would  be  just  lovely  to  find  you 
in  New  Haven." 

"Elsie?" 

"Yes." 

"Why,  is  Elsie Where  is  she?" 

"Yes,"  cried  Frank,  who  had  noted  Winnie's  word. 
"Where  is  Elsie?" 

"She  was  with  us,"  explained  Badger.  "Winnie 
and  I  paused  a  moment  on  the  steps  to  look  around, 
while  she  ran  up-stairs  ahead." 

Frank  and  Inza  looked  at  each  other  in  amazement 

"She's  not  here,"  said  Merry  breathlessly. 

"No,"  said  Winnie.  "She  came  back  quickly,  meet- 
ing us  just  as  we  were  entering.  I  don't  know  what 
ailed  her,  but  she  was  very  pale  and  said  she  was  ill." 

"Never  saw  such  a  change  come  over  anybody  in 
a  minute,"  declared  Buck.  "I  don't  understand  it  now. 
Why,  a  little  while  before  she  was  all  life  and  happi- 
ness, and  her  cheeks  were  like  two  sun-kissed  peaches, 
and  she " 

"That  will  do,  sir !"  cried  Winnie,  frowning.  "You 
may  talk  like  that  about  me,  but  not  about  other  young 
ladies.  Don't  forget  that  you  are  a  married  man." 

Then  Buck  and  Winnie  laughed,  but  neither  Frank 
nor  Inza  joined  them. 

"It's  very  strange,"  said  Frank  slowly. 


260  Elsie's  Strange  Flight. 

"She  seemed  trembling,  too,"  explained  Winnie.  "I 
asked  her  what  was  the  matter,  and  she  said  she  was 
ill." 

"Quickest  fit  of  sickness  I  ever  saw  strike  anybody," 
muttered  Badger. 

"I  urged  her  to  come  up  to  your  rooms,"  Winnie 
went  on;  "but  she  said  she  couldn't  climb  the  stairs." 

"I'd  brought  her  right  up  in  my  arms,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  looks  of  the  thing,"  asserted  Buck. 

"She  said  she  must  have  some  air,"  Winnie  con- 
tinued. "We  wanted  to  stay  with  her,  but  she  wouldn't 
hear  to  it.  Said  it  would  attract  attention.  Said 
she'd  walk  about  down  there." 

Again  Frank  and  Inza  glanced  at  each  other,  and 
then  both  of  them  glanced  toward  the  door,  which 
remained  open.  From  the  point  where  they  had  stood 
by  the  window  the  he  id  of  the  stairway  could  be  seen. 
The  same  thought  came  to  each  of  them. 

"Frank,"  said  the  dark-eyed  girl,  "go  right  down 
and  find  Elsie.  Bring  her  up  here  at  once." 

"I'll  do  it!"  he  exclaimed,  springing  through  the 
doorway,  without  pausing  to  take  a  hat. 

Down  the  stairs  he  bounded,  out  into  the  court  he 
rushed;  and  there,  bareheaded  and  eager,  he  looked 
around  for  Elsie. 

She  was  not  to  be  seen.  From  the  court  he  rushed 
out  through  the  gate  to  the  campus,  where  the  light 
fall  of  snow  had  been  trodden  by  hundreds  of  feet. 

A  little  group  of  fellows  lingered  by  the  fence,  some 
with  the  collars  of  their  coats  turned  up,  some  with 


Elsie's  Strange  Flight  261 

their  hands  thrust  deep  into  their  pockets,  some  with 
overcoats  buttoned  about  them.  Their  heads  were 
close  together,  and  they  were  talking  earnestly  about 
some  topic  of  deep  interest.  A  few  students  were 
hurrying  across  the  campus,  their  appearance  seeming 
to  indicate  that  they  were  making  haste  to  reach  their 
rooms  and  pack  up  that  they  might  get  away  for  the 
holidays.  But  nowhere  could  Merry  see  a  thing  of 
Elsie. 

"Where  the  dickens  could  she  have  gone  ?"  he  mut- 
tered. "I  wonder  if  she  saw  us  from  the  stairs!" 

He  was  seized  by  a  feeling  of  guilt  and  a  sensation 
of  wrong-doing.  Something  told  him  the  time  had 
come  when  he  must  choose  between  Inza  and  Elsie, 
and  that  he  could  not  longer  entertain  more  than 
friendly  relations  with  both  of  the  girls.  The  thought 
that  Elsie  had  seen  him  with  Inza  by  the  window,  and 
had  fled,  her  heart  throbbing  with  pain,  made  him 
desperate  and  wretched. 

"I  must  find  her !"  he  muttered  hoarsely.  "Not  even 
for  the  memory  of  old  times  should  I  have  permitted 
what  happened  to-day!  Elsie!  Elsie!" 

He  seized  by  the  arm  a  hurrying  student  and  asked 
if  he  had  seen  anything  of  a  young  lady  without  es- 
cort. No  such  person  had  been  seen  by  the  one  ques- 
tioned. Then  Merry  went  straight  to  the  group  by 
the  fence.  Yes,  one  of  them  had  seen  Badger  and 
the  two  girls  go  over  to  Vanderbilt,  and  then,  a  few 
moments  later,  had  seen  one  of  the  girls  hurry  away 
alone. 


262  Elsie's  Strange  Flight. 

"Which  way  did  she  go?"  asked  Frank,  repressing 
his  eagerness  so  that  he  attracted  no  particular  atten- 
tion by  his  manner.  Being  told,  he  hurried  over  to 
the  street.  A  few  cabs  and  trucks  were  there.  In  a 
moment  Merry  had  learned  that  such  a  girl  as  he  de- 
scribed was  seen  taking  a  cab  a  few  minutes  before. 

"She's  gone!"  he  huskily  muttered,  as  he  turned 
back.  "I  must  find  out  where  she  is  stopping,  and 
I'll  call  on  her  without  delay.  The  time  has  come 
for  me  to  choose  and  make  my  choice  known.  I'll 
do  it!" 

When  he  again  entered  his  rooms,  he  found  Inza 
had  taken  Buck  and  Winnie  into  the  study,  where  all 
were  chatting  with  Frank's  friends  who  had  gathered 
there. 

Merry  lost  little  time  in  drawing  Buck  aside  and 
asking  where  Elsie  was  stopping,  explaining  that  he 
had  not  found  her. 

Buck  did  not  know,  nor  did  Winnie,  who  told  how 
she  had  corresponded  with  Elsie,  who  had  been  in  New 
York,  thus  informing  her  when  she  would  arrive  in 
New  Haven.  Elsie  had  called  soon  after  their  ar- 
rival, and  the  trio  had  set  out  for  a  visit  to  Merry. 

"But  she  is  coming  to  my  house  to  dinner  this  eve- 
ning," Winnie  explained.  "You  may  see  her  then, 
for  I  want  you  to  be  there,  Frank.  You'll  come?" 

Of  course  Merry  accepted  the  invitation.  Winnie 
added  that  it  was  to  be  a  little  party  of  college  friends, 
and  that  Inza  would  likewise  be  present. 

Frank  glanced   toward   the   dark-haired  girl,   dis- 


Elsie's  Strange  Flight.  263 

covering  that  she  was  engaged  in  earnest  conversation 
with  Starbright,  the  big  fellow  standing  in  an  atti- 
tude of  absorbed  attention,  while  his  blue  eyes  de- 
voured her  with  an  expression  of  intense  admiration 
in  their  honest  depths.  Winnie  noted  Frank's  look, 
and  she  pinched  his  arm,  whispering: 

"That  looks  very,  very  bad — for  you.  She  told 
me  he  is  your  friend,  and  I  invited  him  to  dinner  to- 
night. If  you're  still  sweet  on  Inza  you  want  to  be 
careful  that  your  friend  Richard  Starbright  doesn't 
cut  in  and  take  her  away  from  you.  He  is  just  the 
sort  of  fellow  a  dark-eyed  girl  like  Inza  is  liable  to 
get  struck  on." 

Again  that  strange  pang  of  jealousy  smote  through 
Frank  Merriwell's  heart,  but  he  calmly  said : 

"I  do  not  believe  Inza  could  find  a  finer  fellow  in  the 
whole  wide  world." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A     DINNER-PARTY. 

That  evening  a  jolly  party  gathered  at  the  home  of 
Fairfax  Lee,  Winnie's  father.  Browning,  Hodge, 
Starbright,  Dashleigh,  and  Merriwell  were  there. 
Winnie  and  Inza,  together  with  two  girl  friends, 
sought  to  entertain  them.  But  one  person  was  miss- 
ing; and  in  vain  they  waited  for  Elsie  Bellwood,  who 
did  not  come. 

Frank  tried  to  conceal  the  agitated  state  of  his  feel- 
ings as  best  he  could,  and  he  succeeded  so  well  that 
the  others  enjoyed  themselves.  Not  till  dinner-time 
came  and  passed  and  it  was  impossible  to  wait  longer 
did  Merry  give  up  hope  of  Elsie's  arrival.  At  last  he 
whispered  to  Winnie,  telling  her  that  it  was  useless  to 
wait  longer,  and  they  went  down  to  the  dining-room, 
which  was  beautifully  decorated  with  flowers  and  col- 
lege flags  and  trophies. 

Badger  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  his  beautiful 
little  wife  smiled  at  him  from  the  foot.  Inza  was 
iplaced  between  Frank  and  Dick  Starbright,  Winnie 
having  slyly  whispered  to  Merry  that  he  would  have 
a  fair  chance  to  hold  his  own  against  the  big  fresh- 
man. 

Winnie's  girl  friends  fell  to  Browning  and  Dash- 
leigh. Bert  was  the  soul  of  ease  and  politeness,  but 


A  Dinner-party.  265 

big,  lumbering  Bruce  was  restless  and  awkward,  al- 
though he  did  his  best  to  be  entertaining. 

Bart  Hodge,  alone,  did  not  seem  to  enter  fully  and 
heartily  into  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  though  it  was 
evident  that  he  did  his  best  to  make  Badger  and  Win- 
nie feel  that  all  old  animosities  had  been  buried  and 
forgotten. 

In  course  of  time  the  little  party  grew  very  merry, 
chatting  of  things  that  interested  them,  from  football, 
baseball,  rowing,  and  kindred  sports,  to  ranch  life  and 
the  glorious  freedom  of  the  plains  and  mountains. 
Badger  was  supremely  happy.  He  seemed  to  radiate 
good  nature. 

"Look  here,  Hodge!"  he  exclaimed,  suddenly  sha- 
king his  finger  at  Bart,  "be  careful  down  there !  That's 
my  wife!  You  and  I  have  tried  to  lift  each  other's 
scalps  before  this,  but  I'm  willing  to  bury  the  hatchet 
if  you  don't  flirt  too  hard  with  Mrs.  Badger." 

Hodge  started  a  little,  but  Buck  broke  into  a  hearty 
laugh,  and  Bart  smiled  a  little. 

"Don't  mind  him,"  said  Winnie.  "I  suppose  you'll 
marry,  Mr.  Hodge,  when  the  golden  opportunity  of- 
fers, won't  you?" 

"Well,"  answered  Bart  deliberately,  "that  will  de- 
pend on  how  much  gold  there  is  in  the  opportunity." 

"Oh,  you  mercenary  wretch !"  Winnie  gasped,  while 
Frank  stared,  wondering  to  hear  Hodge  crack  a  joke. 

Browning  was  heard  saying  to  the  girl  at  his  side: 

"I  wonder  why  it  is  that  the  most  beautiful  girls  are 
the  stupid  ones?" 


266  A  Dinner-party. 

"Sir!"  she  exclaimed,  giving  him  a  cutting  look; 
"am  I  to  understand  that  you  desire  to  cast  reflections 
on  my  mental  capacity?" 

"Oh,  no!"  gasped  the  big  fellow,  wishing  to  put 
himself  right  in  her  eyes;  "I  think  you  are  one  of  the 
brightest  girls  I  ever  met." 

Then,  realizing  he  had  said  the  wrong  thing,  and 
could  never  straighten  it  out,  he  hemmed  and  hawed 
and  nearly  exploded  in  consternation  and  confusion, 
causing  the  entire  party  to  break  into  a  shout  of 
laughter.  As  the  merriment  subsided,  the  jolly  girl 
exclaimed : 

"You  flatter  me,  sir!  After  all,  though,  beauty  is 
but  skin-deep." 

"Just  so,"  gurgled  Bruce,  "but  just  think  what  a 
host  of  girls  there  are  who  haven't  it  half  that  deep." 

"That  lets  you  out,  Browning,"  said  Merry.  "You 
were  in  so  deep  that  I  thought  you'd  go  under  sure." 

"The  trouble  with  me,"  explained  the  lazy  giant,  "is 
that  I'm  bothered  with  sleepless  nights,  and  I  some- 
times talk  in  my  sleep  daytimes.  Now,  what  is  a  good 
thing  for  sleeplessness?'* 

"A  shotgun,"  replied  Badger. 

"Shotgun?" 

"Yes.  I  was  troubled  that  way  till  I  shot  five  or 
six  cats.  Now  I  am  completely  cured." 

"What  troubles  me  more  than  anything  else,"  put 
in  Dashleigh,  "is  thoughts  of  the  coming  exams.  It's 
a  constant  horror  to  me." 

"Do  the  questions  bother  you?"  asked  Badger. 


A  Dinner-party.  267 

"Oh,  no!"  declared  Bert.  "The  questions  are  quite 
clear.  It's  the  answers  that  bother  me." 

They  could  not  restrain  their  laughter,  for  Dash- 
leigh  had  said  this  in  a  most  mirth-provoking  manner. 

So,  with  joking  and  laughter,  the  feast  progressed; 
but  for  Frank  the  one  person  who  would  have  made 
the  occasion  a  perfect  one  was  absent;  and,  although 
he  tried  to  conceal  the  fact,  his  thoughts  were  turning 
to  Elsie.  At  length  Inza  spoke  of  her. 

"Why  do  you  suppose  she  is  not  here,  Frank?"  she 
asked,  in  a  low  tone,  under  cover  of  the  chatter  of 
conversation.  "I  do  not  understand  it." 

"I'm  afraid,"  confessed  Frank,  "that  she  has  been 
hurt  or  offended  by  something." 

"How?"  whispered  the  dark-eyed  girl.  "I  don't 
understand " 

"You  know  she  ran  up-stairs  ahead  of  Buck  and 
Winnie." 

"Yes." 

"And  one  of  the  doors  to  my  rooms  was  open." 

"Yes." 

"We  were  in  that  room,  looking  at  some  pictures 
by  the  window." 

"And  she  saw  us;  that  may  be  true,"  said  Inza. 
"She  is  a  sensitive  little  soul.  Frank,  you  must  find 
her — you  must  bring  her  to  me.  She  is  somewhere  in 
New  Haven.  Find  her  to-night.  Just  because  we 
happened  to  be  speaking  of  the  past,  which  is  gone  for- 
ever, is  no  reason  why  we  should  make  Elsie  unhappy. 


268  A  Dinner-party. 

I'll  give  her  cause  for  happiness,  Frank.  Bring  her 
to  me." 

"I  will !"  he  exclaimed,  with  suppressed  earnestness. 
"I'll  make  my  excuses  and  leave  as  soon  as  dinner  is 
over." 

Badger  was  on  his  feet,  making  a  speech  in  his 
blunt,  straightforward  way.  He  extolled  Yale  and 
Frank  Merriwell.  He  spoke  of  the  grand  victories 
of  the  eleven  under  command  of  Merry.  Then  he 
told  how  much  he  owed  to  the  friendship  and  influence 
of  Merriwell,  till,  at  last,  Frank  laughingly  entreated 
him  to  stop. 

"Well,  I'll  stop,"  said  Buck,  "but  I  want  everybody 
here  to  drink  with  me  to  the  health  of  Frank  Merri- 
well, the  squarest,  whitest,  manliest  man  that  ever 
lived!" 

The  glasses  had  been  filled  with  punch,  and  they  all 
rose  to  drink  the  toast.  Frank  bowed  his  thanks, 
feeling  his  face  grow  warm,  despite  the  fact  that  he 
had  seen  much  of  the  world  and  been  greeted  with 
applause  and  admiration  in  many  places. 

"My  friends,"  he  said,  "nothing  could  touch  me 
more  than  such  a  tribute  of  esteem  from  a  Yale  man, 
one  who  has  been  an  open  and  honorable  foe  in  the 
past  and  is  now  just  as  enthusiastic  in  his  friendship 
toward  me.  From  the  lips  of  any  other  man  the  com- 
pliment could  not  mean  as  much." 

"When  Buck  says  a  thing  he  means  it,"  declared 
Winnie,  with  a  look  of  admiration  toward  her  hus- 
band. 


A  Dinner-party.  269 

Then  Merry  made  a  brief  speech,  in  which  he  re- 
ferred to  the  days  of  toil  and  struggle  and  ambition  at 
college — happy  days,  now  nearly  over  for  him. 

"One  of  the  greatest  and  proudest  achievements," 
he  asserted,  "something  I  prize  above  all  things,  is  the 
fact  that  I  have  made  here  at  Yale  so  many  stanch, 
true  friends." 

When  dinner  was  over,  they  returned  to  the  parlor, 
where  Dashleigh  tuned  up  his  mandolin,  and  there 
were  music  and  singing  and  a  good  time  generally. 
Winnie  sat  down  to  the  piano,  and  the  others  gathered 
round.  The  old  college  songs  were  sung  one  after  an- 
other, Starbright  joining  in  with  his  magnificent  bass 
voice. 

Frank  had  excused  himself  to  Winnie,  telling  her 
why  he  was  going  to  leave,  and,  in  the  midst  of  the 
singing,  he  went  out  quietly  with  Buck,  who  helped 
him  on  with  his  coat  in  the  hall,  gave  him  a  hearty 
hand-clasp,  and  wished  him  luck  in  his  search  for 
Elsie. 

As  he  was  about  to  leave,  Merry  glanced  back  on 
the  happy  party  in  the  parlor.  He  saw  Starbright 
bending  over  Inza  to  look  through  some  music,  saw 
her  smile  up  at  him  when  he  said  something  in  a  low 
tone;  and,  with  this  picture  in  his  mind,  he  went  out 
into  the  frosty  December  night. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

FRANK    MERRIWELL/S    HEART. 

Frank's  quest  for  Elsie  was  vain,  but  he  found  she 
had  been  stopping  at  one  of  the  hotels.  Her  name 
was  on  the  register.  When  he  asked  for  her,  however, 
he  was  informed  that  she  had  left  that  day.  The  clerk 
could  not  tell  him  whither  she  had  gone,  save  that 
her  trunk  had  beer,  taken  to  the  railway-station.  But 
this  was  enough  to  make  him  feel  certain  she  had  left 
New  Haven. 

There  was  a  pain  in  Frank's  heart  when  he  turned 
toward  his  rooms  in  Vanderbilt.  Quite  alone,  he 
paused  by  the  fence.  There  were  lights  all  about 
him  in  the  windows  of  the  college  buildings.  A  few- 
were  dark  and  unlighted,  but  it  was  the  gleam  of 
the  lighted  ones  that  gave  him  a  feeling  of  sadness  and 
desolation.  He  knew  many  of  the  students  had  started 
for  their  homes  that  night,  while  to-morrow  there 
would  be  a  grand  exodus.  Going  home !  The  thought 
thrilled  the  vibrating  chords  of  his  heart.  He  had  no 
home  to  which  he  could  go. 

The  sky  was  thickly  studded  with  stars,  gazing 
down  upon  him  like  a  million  gleaming  eyes.  He 
leaned  on  the  fence  and  gazed  up  at  them,  and  he 
fancied  they  gave  him  their  sympathy. 


Frank  Merriwell's  Heart.  271 

"Elsie!"  he  murmured;  "where  are  you?  Why  did 
you  leave  me  without  a  word?" 

Many,  many  times,  he  had  lingered  there  at  the 
fence,  with  stanch,  true  friends  about  him.  It  was 
there  he  had  discussed  football,  baseball,  sports  of  all 
kinds,  and  talked  over  the  gossip  of  the  college.  Now 
he  was  alone! 

Finally  he  turned  toward  Vanderbilt  and  climbed 
the  stairs  to  his  room.  This  was  his  only  home,  but 
now  it  seemed  lonely  and  deserted. 

He  lighted  the  gas  in  his  study  and  stood  there 
looking  around.  It  was  a  pleasant  room,  yet  the  time 
was  approaching  when  it  would  know  him  no  more. 
The  walls  were  adorned  with  pictures,  flags,  photo- 
graphs, and  the  many  curios  he  had  gathered  in  his 
wanderings  about  the  world.  His  desk  was  standing 
open,  the  pigeonholes  stuffed  with  the  various  things 
which  were  of  value  to  him  alone.  There  were  papers 
and  letters  upon  it.  Before  it  stood  the  office  chair, 
with  an  easy  rocker  close  at  hand. 

In  a  window  alcove  was  a  long,  easy  seat,  piled 
with  cushions.  Over  the  window  in  big  white  letters 
was  the  word,  "Yale."  Magic  word,  dear  to  the  heart 
of  every  loyal  lover  of  Old  Eli !  Near  the  window 
was  the  well-filled  bookcase,  containing  many  well- 
thumbed  volumes.  Through  the  portieres  he  could  look 
into  the  adjoining  room  and  see  the  square  table  on 
which  lay  the  photographs  he  had  inspected  in  com- 
pany with  Inza. 


272  Frank  Merriwell's  Heart. 

Frank  sat  down  in  the  rocker  and  fell  to  thinking 
of  many  things,  but  his  mind  would  always  revert  to 
Elsie  and  her  strange  and  hurried  flight  from  New 
Haven. 

"The  time  has  come!"  he  finally  exclaimed.  "This 
is  my  last  year  at  college,  and  soon  I  must  go  out  into 
the  world  for  myself.  I  must  choose  between  Elsie 
and  Inza.  Perhaps  I  have  done  wrong  not  to  choose 
before,  but  the  friendship  of  both  girls  has  been  very 
dear  to  me." 

He  paced  the  room,  his  mind  filled  with  thoughts 
of  both  the  charming  girls.  He  saw  before  him  Elsie's 
sweet,  smiling  face,  crowned  with  golden  curls,  he  felt 
the  touch  of  her  soft,  sympathetic  hand,  heard  the 
music  of  her  voice,  and  his  heart  yearned  for  her. 
Then  came  Inza — dark-eyed,  dark-haired,  dashing, 
handsome,  self-possessed,  and  magnetic.  He  felt  the 
spell  of  her  powerful  influence,  and  it  seemed  that  she 
was  trying  to  crowd  gentle,  modest  Elsie  out  of  his 
heart. 

Then  he  remembered  her  as  he  had  last  seen  her, 
smiling  up  into  the  face  of  Dick  Starbright.  He 
shrugged  his  broad  shoulders  and  continued  to  pace 
the  room.  There  was  a  knock  on  the  door,  and  a 
messenger-boy  stood  outside. 

"Been  here  twice  before,  sir,"  said  the  boy.  "Lady 
said  I  must  give  the  letter  to  yer  to-night,  sure." 

Frank  took  it  and  gave  the  boy  a  quarter.  Then, 
having  closed  the  door,  as  the  messenger  had  said 
there  would  be  no  reply,  he  hastened  to  tear  open  the 


Frank  Merriwell's  Heart.  273 

envelope.  His  fingers  trembled  a  little  and  his  heart 
pounded  violently  in  his  throat.  He  saw  his  name 
written  on  the  envelope. 

"From  Elsie!"  he  murmured  hoarsely.  The  mes- 
sage was  brief,  and  this  is  what  he  read : 

"DEAR  FRANK:  I  know  you  will  think  it  strange 
that  I  changed  my  mind  so  suddenly  about  seeing  you, 
and  have  left  New  Haven.  I  meant  to  come  to  you 
and  tell  you  that  in  the  future  we  were  to  be  nothing 
but  friends,  but  my  heart  failed  me  at  the  last  mo- 
ment. Not  because  I  changed  my  mind  on  that  point, 
but  because  I  knew  it  would  be  very  unpleasant  for  us 
both.  I  have  been  contemplating  this  for  some  time, 
as  I  have  a  very  good  reason  for  it.  I  know  you  do 
not  care  to  claim  me  as  anything  more  than  a  friend, 
if  such  a  tie  would  be  obnoxious  to  me.  Good-by, 
Frank !  I  wish  you  all  the  happiness  you  deserve,  and 
that  is  all  the  world  can  give  you.  I  shall  write  to 
Inza.  ELSIE/' 

He  stood  and  stared  at  the  writing  for  a  long  time, 
now  and  then  lifting  a  hand  to  brush  back  his  hair. 
He  read  it  over  and  over,  seeking  to  discover  a  hid- 
den meaning  in  the  words.  Finally  he  crushed  the 
sheet  of  paper  in  one  hand  and  flung  it  from  him. 

"It  is  her  choice!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  would  not 
force  her  to  care  for  me  against  her  will — I  could  not 
if  I  would!  I  believe  I  understand  what  is  back  of 
this.  She  has  met  some  one  else  for  whom  she  cares 
more  than  for  me.  She  speaks  of  a  closer  tie  than 
mere  friendship  between  us  being  obnoxious  to  her, 
and  there  is  no  other  explanation.  All  right,  Elsie  I 


274  Frank  Merriweli's  Heart. 

I  suppose  it  is  as  it  should  be.  You  wish  me  happi- 
ness !  I'll  have  it — with  Inza !" 

His  mind  was  made  up  in  that  moment.  Elsie 
was  thrust  from  his  mental  vision,  and  Inza,  radiant 
and  beautiful,  rose  like  a  queen  before  him. 

"Inza !"  he  murmured.  "Perhaps  it  is  best.  You — 
you  were  the  sweetheart  of  my  boyhood  days.  Fate 
must  have  intended  you  for  me." 

Up  and  down  the  room  he  strode,  his  breast  heav- 
ing, his  cheeks  flushed. 

"Starbright,"  he  laughed,  "you'll  have  to  stand 
aside,  old  fellow !  I  can't  have  you  take  her  from  me ! 
You  know,  and  I  hardly  think  you'll  object  I'll  find 
her  at  your  home,  and,  during  these  merry  holidays, 
I'll  win  her  promise  to  be  mine  forever." 

He  fancied  the  struggle  was  over,  and  he  flung 
open  his  window  to  admit  the  cold  night  air.  It 
fanned  his  hot  forehead,  and  he  drank  it  in  with  long, 
deep  breaths.  Leaning  on  the  window-sill,  he  looked 
out  upon  the  campus,  where  a  solitary  student  walked 
hastily  along,  the  frosty  ground  seeming  to  creak 
and  complain  beneath  his  feet. 

Then  he  turned  back  into  the  room,  closing  the 
window.  A  moment  he  stood  looking  down  at  Elsie's 
crumpled  note.  Suddenly  a  quiver  ran  over  him,  and 
he  stooped,  picked  up  the  paper,  smoothed  it  out,  and 
thrust  it  into  a  pocket  near  his  heart 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

DICK  STARBRIGHT'S  HOME. 

On  the  southeastern  shore  of  Seneca  Lake,  not 
many  miles  from  the  little  village  of  Burdett,  stood 
the  handsome  home  of  the  Starbrights.  Old  Captain 
Starbright  had  purchased  this  splendid  country  place, 
intending  to  settle  down  there  some  time,  far  from 
sight  and  sound  of  the  grim  and  restless  ocean,  to 
spend  the  latter  part  of  his  life  in  peace  and  quietude. 
But  his  dream  of  peaceful  old  age  in  the  bosom  of  his 
family  had  never  been  realized,  for  he  died  in  the  cabin 
of  his  vessel  far  from  his  native  land.  Gossip  said 
he  drank  himself  to  death. 

However,  he  had  made  a  comfortable  fortune,  and 
the  home  he  left  to  his  widow  and  children  was  an 
ideal  one.  He  had  enlarged  and  remodeled  the  old 
country  house  till  it  was  regarded  by  the  neighbors 
as  a  veritable  palace.  He  had  spent  large  sums  on  the 
surrounding  grounds,  and  his  landscape  gardening 
was  the  wonder  and  awe  of  the  plain  people  of  that 
section  of  the  country.  Not  a  few  of  them  declared 
he  was  determined  to  bankrupt  himself  by  his  foolish 
extravagance  in  these  matters;  but  the  result  of  his 
labors  was  pleasing  to  the  eye,  to  say  the  least. 

The  homestead  was  situated  on  a  hill  that  sloped 
gently  westward  to  the  shore  of  the  lake,  where  the 


276  Dick  Starbright's  Home. 

captain  built  a  handsome  boat-house.  From  Watkins, 
on  the  south,  to  Geneva,  on  the  north,  Seneca  Lake  is 
fifty  miles  long,  and  there  is  plenty  of  yachting  to  be 
had,  for  which  purpose  the  old  mariner  purchased  a 
handsome  sloop,  and  Dick  had  been  taught  to  handle 
her  with  the  skill  of  a  veteran. 

There  were  rowboats  and  canoes,  and  both  Dick  and 
his  younger  brother,  Phil,  had  built  up  the  muscles 
of  their  arms  and  backs  pulling  at  the  oar  and  paddle. 
But  now  the  lake  was  frozen  over  from  end  to  end 
by  the  week  of  cold  weather  before  the  holidays,  and 
sailing  and  boating  could  not  be  enjoyed.  There  was 
plenty  of  skating,  however,  and  Phil  had  an  ice-boat, 
which  he  had  constructed  with  his  own  hands. 

Dick's  mother  was  a  handsome,  kind-faced  lady,  re- 
fined and  sad  in  her  manner,  although  her  face  could 
light  up  with  a  smile  that  was  like  a  golden  sunburst. 
She  was  very  proud  of  her  two  boys,  and  of  big, 
manly  Dick  in  particular.  He  was  so  much  like  her 
husband  as  she  had  known  him  in  his  younger  days. 
Yes,  Dick  was  like  him  in  many  respects,  yet  she  could 
see  that  he  was  finer-grained,  for  the  old  sailor  had 
been  somewhat  blunt  and  bluff  in  his  ways. 

No  wonder  Dick  was  finer-grained,  for  it  were  im- 
possible for  him  to  be  otherwise  with  such  a  mother. 
Her  influence  had  been  over  him  always,  and  she  was 
to  him  the  type  of  perfect  womanhood.  She  liked  to 
think  of  him  as  like  her  husband  in  his  youthful  days, 
and  yet  that  thought  brought  to  her  sometimes  one 
great  fear. 


Dick  Starbright's  Home.  277 

Captain  Starbright  had  been  beset  by  one  great 
weakness — his  love  for  strong  drink.  All  his  life  he 
had  fought  against  it,  but  it  had  conquered  him  at 
last  and  cut  short  his  days.  The  one  great  fear  that 
haunted  Dick's  mother  was  that  some  time  her  elder 
son  might  fall  beneath  the  ban  of  intemperance;  but 
from  the  time  little  Dick  knelt  at  her  knee  to  lisp  his 
bedtime  prayers  she  had  sought  to  instil  in  his  mind 
a  loathing  and  repulsion  for  the  demon  of  strong 
drink. 

Phil  Starbright  regarded  his  brother  as  just  about 
"the  proper  thing"  in  every  way.  Phil  was  slenderer 
and  more  like  his  mother,  and  Dick  seemed  to  him  a 
marvel  of  strength,  courage,  and  energy.  At  school 
there  had  never  been  a  fellow  who  could  whip  Dick, 
and  whenever  Phil  was  in  trouble  Dick  could  easily 
and  readily  be  summoned  to  help  him  out. 

Phil,  also,  was  fitting  for  Yale.  At  Andover  he 
had  read  with  breathless  interest  the  accounts  of  the 
Yale  football-games  in  which  Dick  had  taken  part; 
and  his  pride  swelled  and  grew  when  report  after  re- 
port told  of  the  marvelous  playing  of  the  young  fresh- 
man giant  who  was  known  as  the  protege  of  Frank 
Merriwell. 

Frank  Merriwell!  Phil  had  heard  of  him  many 
times  before  Dick  went  to  Yale;  he  had  talked  of  him 
to  Dick,  and  he  had  longed  to  see  the  most  famous 
college  man  in  the  country.  When  Dick  wrote  to  Phil, 
telling  of  his  meeting  with  Merriwell  and  how  kind 


278  Dick  Starbright's  Home. 

Merriwell  had  been  to  him,  the  younger  brother  felt 
like  turning  somersaults  and  yelling  with  joy. 

And  then,  just  before  the  holidays,  Phil  received  a 
letter,  in  which  Dick  said  he  had  invited  Merriwell  and 
a  number  of  his  friends  to  spend  a  portion  of  the  vaca- 
tion at  the  Starbright  home,  which  invitation  had  been 
accepted.  Phil  came  near  having  a  fit.  At  last  he 
would  see  Frank  Merriwell!  The  day  that  he  had 
dreamed  of  was  coming ! 

With  a  bounding,  eager  heart  the  Andover  lad 
packed  up  and  started  for  home,  for  he  could  get  off 
a  day  sooner  than  Dick,  and  he  wished  to  have  every- 
thing ready  to  receive  his  brother's  guests  in  the  proper 
manner. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Merry,  Browning,  Ready, 
and  Dashleigh  were  warmly  welcomed  at  the  fine  old 
country  place  on  Seneca  Lake.  And  Phil's  heart 
ceased  to  beat  for  a  moment  when  Frank  Merriwell 
pressed  his  hand  and  said  he  was  glad  to  know  Dick's 
brother. 

Mrs.  Starbright  was  so  happy  that  the  sad  look 
had  fled  from  her  face,  and  she  quickly  made  them  all 
feel  quite  at  home. 

"You  must  blame  Dick  for  bringing  such  a  crowd 
along,  Mrs.  Starbright,"  said  Merry.  "He  would  make 
us  come." 

"And  I  am  very,  very  glad  he  did,"  she  earnestly 
declared,  in  a  way  that  left  no  doubt  of  her  sincerity. 
"He  has  written  me  about  all  of  you,  particularly  of 
you,  Mr.  Merriwell.  I  think  I've  hardly  ever  received 


Dick  Starbright's  Home.  279 

a  letter  from  him  in  which  he  has  not  made  some  ref- 
erence to  you.  You  were  very  kind  to  him,  and  I 
have  much  to  thank  you  for." 

"And  I,"  said  Ready,  "I  have  been  very  kind  to 
him,  also.  He  will  tell  you  how  I  have  entertained 
him  as  a  sophomore  should  entertain  a  freshman. 
Oh,  I  have  labored  with  him  many  a  night." 

"Thank  you,  too,"  she  said,  "for  helping  him  nights 
with  his  studies.  I  am  sure  I  appreciate  it,  Mr. 
Ready." 

"With  his  studies!"  gasped  Jack,  taking  care  she 
did  not  hear.  "Oh,  my!  Wouldn't  that  kill  you! 
Think  of  a  sophomore  helping  a  freshman  with  his 
studies!  I've  helped  him  do  a  jolly  turn  at  Billie's; 
I've  marched  him  about  the  campus  in  his  pajamas, 
and  I've  trained  him  through  the  streets  with  his  left 
trousers  leg  rolled  to  the  knee  and  a  broom  on  his 
shoulder  for  a  gun ;  but  helped  him  with  his  studies — 
oh,  Laura!" 

"But  these  are  not  all,  mother,"  laughed  Dick. 
"There  are  more  coming.  To-morrow  two  young 
ladies  and  two  gentlemen  will  arrive.  One  of  the  gen- 
tlemen is  the  father  of  one  of  the  young  ladies,  while 
the  other  gentleman  is  the  husband  of  the  other  young 
lady.  The  old  house  will  be  filled,  and  we  won't  do 
a  thing!" 

"I  think  we'll  be  able  to  find  room  for  everybody," 
she  said.  "The  holidays  are  to  be  very  happy  for  me, 
I'm  sure." 

"I  hope  she's  provided  plenty  of  fodder  for  the 


280  Dick  Starbright's  Home. 

herd,"  whispered  Ready  to  Browning.  "I'm  hollow 
as — as  your  head." 

"Now,  don't  try  to  get  funny  at  my  expense," 
warned  the  big  senior.  "I'm  hungry  myself,  and  I 
don't  feel  like  being  made  a  fool  of." 

"It  would  be  hard  to  improve  on  what  nature  did 
for  you  in  that  respect,"  murmured  the  irrepressible 
sophomore. 

The  boys  were  shown  up  to  large,  pleasant  rooms, 
which  had  been  prepared  for  them.  Frank  and  Bruce 
were  given  a  room  together,  but  there  were  two  old- 
fashioned  beds  in  it,  and  it  opened  into  another  and 
smaller  room  that  was  designated  for  Ready. 

"Thank  goodness!"  said  Jack,  when  he  found  he 
was  to  have  a  room  by  himself.  "I'll  not  have  to 
sleep  in  the  same  apartment  with  Browning.  If  I 
did,  by  the  gods  of  Olympus!  I'd  get  a  clothes-pin 
and  place  it  straddle  of  his  nose  to  keep  him  from 
snoring.  His  snore  is  one  of  the  most  frightful  things 
I  ever  encountered.  Yea,  verily!  I  know,  for  I've 
listened  to  it  in  the  stilly  hours  of  many  an  awful 
night,  and  it  has  filled  me  with  despair  and  an  intense 
desire  to  do  murder." 

"Oh,  shut  up  and  get  into  your  own  quarters!" 
growled  Bruce.  "Your  mouth  must  be  tired.  It's 
been  going  yawp!  yawp!  yawp!  ever  since  we  left 
New  Haven.  You're  the  worst  case  of  talk-and-say- 
nothing  I  ever  knew." 

"Refuse  me !"  chirped  Ready,  bowing  low.    "I  hap- 


Dick  Starbright's  Home.  281 

pened  to  be  built  that  way.  It  soothes  my  nerves  to 
work  my  jaw." 

"But  it  tears  up  the  nerves  of  everybody  within 
hearing,"  declared  Bruce. 

"Well,  here  we  are,  fellows,"  said  Frank  cheerfully. 
"Starbright  has  a  splendid  home  and  a  beautiful 
mother.  I'm  glad  I  came." 

"Wait  till  I  get  down  to  the  supper-table  and  I'll  tell 
you  better  whether  I'm  glad  or  not,"  said  Jack.  "I 
wonder  if  they've  really  got  enough  for  us  to  eat. 
Even  a  railroad  sandwich  would  have  no  terrors  for 
me  now." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

A     BI  LLI ARD- M AT C H . 

Winnie  and  Inza,  with  Buck  and  Mr.  Burrage,  ar- 
rived the  following  day  and  found  an  enthusiastic  lot 
of  young  men  there  at  the  Starbright  homestead. 
Frank  was  the  first  to  meet  Inza,  and  he  gave  her 
hand  a  warm  pressure,  while  telling  her  how  glad 
he  was  that  she  had  come. 

"We'll  have  a  glorious  time  here,"  he  declared. 
"The  finest  old  place  in  all  New  York!  A  billiard- 
room,  a  bowling-alley,  a  regular  gymnasium — oh,  but 
old  Captain  Starbright  knew  how  to  lay  out  his  money 
to  make  an  ideal  home!  And  Dick's  mother — one  of 
the  gentlest  mothers  in  the  world.  She'll  make  you 
welcome,  you  may  be  sure." 

She  did;  she  took  the  girls  to  her  heart  and  said 
those  things  which  only  a  woman  like  her  would 
know  how  to  say  to  make  them  feel  how  glad  she 
was  to  see  them.  In  a  moment  they  were  at  their 
ease. 

She  shook  hands  with  Buck  and  Mr.  Burrage. 
Something  she  said  to  the  young  Westerner,  giving 
Winnie  a  glance,  brought  the  color  to  Buck's  face 
and  made  him  throw  back  his  shoulders  and  look  very 
proud. 

Browning,  with  his  hunger  abated,  smoking  a  pipe, 


A  Billiard-match.  283 

was  comfortable  and  at  his  ease;  but  not  even  the 
sating  of  Ready's  hunger  had  toned  him  down.  He 
was  the  same  happy-go-lucky,  talkative,  joking  chap. 

"The  happy  family  has  assembled  at  last,"  he  pro- 
claimed. "We're  all  here,  Mrs.  Starbright,  and  now 
we'll  proceed  to  eat  you  out  of  house  and  home.  Oh, 
we'll  have  a  good  time  reducing  you  to  poverty !  My ! 
my!  but  I'm  glad  I  came.  Badger,  you  should  have 
seen  the  old-fashioned  plum  pudding  we  had  for  sup- 
per last  night.  It  was  a  peach !  But  I  only  got  about 
half  of  it  before  Browning  annihilated  the  other  half." 

"Huah!"  grunted  Bruce.  "Don't  try  so  hard  to  be 
funny." 

"Oh,"  said  Dashleigh,  "some  of  Ready's  jokes  last 
night  were  really  and  truly  funny.  They  would  have 
made  a  donkey  laugh.  Why,  I  actually  laughed  till 
I  cried." 

Then  Bert  grew  furiously  red  when  everybody 
shouted,  nor  did  his  confusion  abate  when  afterward 
Ready  seriously  addressed  him  as  "The  Donkey." 

Mrs.  Starbright  took  charge  of  the  girls.  Mr.  Bur- 
rage  was  very  weary  and  retired  to  his  room  for  a 
brief  rest.  After  washing  his  face  and  hands  and 
brushing  his  clothes,  Buck  was  ready  to  be  shown 
about  the  place,  and  Dick  took  charge  of  him. 

That  afternoon  Dick  challenged  Frank  to  a  game 
of  billiards,  and  the  party  assembled  in  the  billiard- 
room  to  witness  the  match. 

"Oh,  Richard,  my  boy,  you  are  up  against  the  real 
thing  now,"  chirped  Ready.  "Going  to  play  a  hun- 


284  A  Billiard-match. 

dred  points,  eight-inch  balk?  He'll  beat  you  fifty 
points,  or  I'll  eat  my  hat!  But  you  should  see  me 
play!  I'm  the  bird  at  that  game.  Why,  I've  often 
run  two  points  without  stopping." 

"I'll  tell  you  what,"  laughed  Starbright,  his  eyes 
flashing,  "let's  play  for  something  to  make  it  interest- 
ing. Will  you  do  it?" 

"Well,  say  a  thousand  dollars,"  suggested  Ready 
carelessly.  "I'll  offer  that  sum  as  a  purse.  It's  a  mere 
nothing  to  me." 

"I  do  not  mean  that  we  are  to  bet  on  the  game," 
explained  Dick.  "But  if  there  were  a  prize  of  some 
sort " 

He  paused  and  looked  at  Inza. 

"Can't  you  suggest  something?"  he  asked. 

She  smiled  back  at  him,  and  then,  roguishly,  she 
said  : 

"Oh,  I  might  suggest  something — if  it  would  be 
worth  struggling  for." 

"Name  it!"  cried  Frank  and  Dick  in  a  breath. 

"To-morrow  we  are  to  have  a  sleighing-party." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  will  go  in  the  sleigh  of  the  one  who  wins 
this  match.  Wliat  do  you  say  to  that?" 

There  was  a  brief  pause,  then  both  fellows  cried : 

"Done!" 

"Oh,  say!"  cried  Ready;  "let  me  into  this!  With 
such  a  prize  in  view,  I  can  wipe  you  both  off  the 
map!  Give  me  a  cue." 

"Your  cue  is  to  keep  quiet,"   rumbled  Browning, 


A  Billiard-match.  285 

who  was  seated  in  a  big,  easy  chair,  placidly  looking 
on. 

The  balk-lines  were  freshly  drawn,  Frank  was 
given  his  choice  of  cues,  and  then  the  contestants  pre- 
pared to  "string"  for  the  start. 

"Frank,"  murmured  Dick,  "I'm  going  to  beat  you 
if  it  is  in  me.  You  will  have  to  play  your  best.  I 
give  you  fair  warning." 

"All  right,"  Merry  nodded.  "It  is  a  battle  to  the 
finish." 

They  sent  the  ivories  rolling  down  the  table  to  re- 
bound from  the  lower  cushion  and  come  gently  back, 
side  by  side.  All  waited  anxiously  for  the  balls  to 
stop.  They  rolled  up  to  the  head  cushion,  against 
which  they  lodged  and  "froze." 

"Tie,"  declared  Bruce.    "You'll  have  to  try  it  over." 

They  did  so,  and  on  the  second  trial  Dick  obtained 
a  slight  advantage,  which  gave  him  the  lead.  Frank 
was  wondering  just  how  skilful  his  antagonist  would 
prove  to  be,  and  he  watched  closely  the  manner  in 
which  Starbright  made  his  first  shots. 

Dick  studied  the  positions  of  the  balls  a  moment, 
and  then  made  a  skilful  draw  that  brought  them  to- 
gether in  a  group.  Immediately,  Merry  understood 
that  he  had  no  easy  task  before  him.  He  saw  on 
Dick's  face  a  look  of  resolution  and  determination,  and 
he  knew  the  big  freshman  would  play  as  if  for  his 
very  life. 

"He  means  to  win  the  privilege  of  having  Inza  in 
his  sleigh — if  he  can,"  thought  Frank.  "That's  plain 


286  A  Billiard-match. 

enough.  A  careless  stroke  or  the  least  let  up  on  my 
part  may  mean  defeat." 

He  knew  now  that  he  must  be  on  his  mettle  to  the 
very  finish.  Glancing  toward  Inza,  he  saw  her  dark 
eyes  fastened  on  Dick,  and  she  was  watching  the  play 
with  breathless  interest  that  seemed  anxiety. 

"Is  it  possible  she  wishes  him  to  win  ?"  Frank  asked 
himself.  "It  almost  seems  so.  If  I  thought  it,  he 
should  win,  even  were  I  able  to  defeat  him." 

But  his  heart  rebelled  against  the  thought,  and  again 
he  resolved  to  play  the  match  at  his  best. 

Having  the  balls  together,  Starbright  proceeded  to 
nurse  them  in  a  skilful  manner,  running  thirteen 
points,  and  then  missing  an  easy  masse. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Inza,  with  a  catch  of  her  breath. 
"You  stopped  at  thirteen!  That's  an  unlucky  num- 
ber." 

Then,  in  a  moment,  she  laughed  merrily,  warning 
Frank  to  take  care  to  make  as  many  as  thirteen. 

Merry  started  in.  Fortunately,  the  ivories  lay  well 
for  him,  and  he  ran  off  point  after  point  with  care 
and  still  with  swiftness  till  he  had  made  thirty-one. 
Then  he  missed  on  an  effort  to  gather  them  in  a 
corner. 

"That  is  thirteen  turned  round,"  he  laughed;  "but 
it  may  be  just  as  unlucky." 

"I'd  rather  take  my  chances  on  it,"  declared  Dick. 

Starbright  seemed  to  have  the  balls  in  a  good  posi- 
tion, and  again  he  began  playing  with  care — too  much 
care,  perhaps,  for  he  missed  with  his  third  shot. 


A  Billiard-match.  287 

"Oh!"  again  came  from  Inza's  lips.  "I  don't  be- 
lieve you're  even  going  to  make  it  interesting." 

"I'm  afraid  not,"  admitted  Dick,  with  a  tone  of 
the  utmost  regret.  "But  you  may  be  sure  I  shall  do 
my  best." 

Frank  ran  seventeen  more  points  before  missing, 
making  him  forty-eight  in  all,  while  Dick  had  only 
fifteen. 

There  was  a  look  of  grim  determination  on  Dick's 
face  as  he  began  again. 

"Get  into  the  game  and  make  a  touch-down,"  urged 
Ready.  "What  are  we  paying  our  money  for!  With 
such  a  prize  in  view,  I  could  run  a  hundred — feet. 
Oh,  you  should  see  me  dally  with  the  ivories!  It  is  a 
sight  to  make  the  gods  weep." 

Dick  took  pains.  He  studied  his  shots,  and  got  the 
balls  across  the  line  at  one  corner  and  worked  them 
there  with  great  skill,  beginning  to  pile  up  point  after 
point.  His  playing  brought  applause,  Merry  giving 
it  as  readily  and  honestly  as  the  others. 

Ten — twenty  points  he  ran  without  a  break.  It  was 
a  grand  exhibition  of  skill.  Inza  was  watching  with 
intense  earnestness,  and  again  Merry  fancied  she 
might  be  anxious  for  Dick  to  win.  Then,  at  a  critical 
point,  came  a  miscue,  and  Dick's  run  came  to  an  end 
with  him  just  three  points  behind  Frank. 

"You  gave  me  a  shock,  then,"  confessed  Merry,  as 
he  made  ready  to  play.  "You  had  'em  going,  and  I 
didn't  know  that  you  were  ever  going  to  stop." 


288  A  Billiard-match. 

"It  was  my  opportunity,"  declared  Starbright  re- 
gretfully. "If  I  had  not  made  that  miscue!" 

"That's  the  way  in  this  world,"  philosophized 
Ready.  "Just  as  we  have  the  balls  rolling  our  way 
and  everything  looks  bright  and  radiant,  we  slip  a  cog 
and  fall  down  with  a  slam.  It's  sad  and  disgusting, 
but  true — alas!" 

"Will  somebody  be  good  enough  to  smother  him," 
mumbled  Browning.  "Makes  me  think  of  Dismal 
Jones."  ^ 

"Ha!  ha!"  laughed  Jack,  with  his  old  flippant  air. 
"Refuse  me!  Let's  be  merry.  Why  does  a  chicken 
cross  the  road?  Don't  hit  me!  My  ringers  are 
crossed." 

Frank  had  seen  enough  to  know  now  that  Starbright 
was  a  brilliant  billiard-player,  and  more  than  ever  he 
was  determined  to  do  his  level  best.  Nevertheless, 
Merry  was  somewhat  rusty,  and  thus  it  happened  that 
he  missed  his  fifth  shot. 

"Now's  your  chance,  Dick!"  exclaimed  Dashleigh, 
who  was  acting  as  marker.  "You  can  get  the  lead 
right  here." 

The  shot  was  a  very  hard  one. 

"You  can't  make  that,  Starbright,"  asserted  Brown- 
ing. "I  don't  believe  it  can  be  made." 

"Oh,  there  is  a  way  to  make  any  shot  on  the  table," 
Frank  asserted. 

But  Dick  was  not  so  sure  of  succeeding  in  this  case. 
He  took  great  pains,  and  succeeded.  It  was  a  hand- 


A  Billiard-match.  289 

some  shot,  and  Merriwell  gave  a  cry  of  admiration 
and  approval. 

"That  reminds  me  of  my  playing,"  murmured 
Ready.  "It  is  so  different,  you  know." 

Inza  gave  Dick  a  smile  of  admiring  approval,  which 
did  not  escape  Frank's  keen  eyes.  But  the  balls  re- 
mained separated,  and  Starbright's  success  and  the 
applause  that  had  greeted  the  feat  seemed  to  rattle 
the  big  freshman,  so  that  he  missed  the  very  next  shot. 

"I  must  get  them  together  and  .hold  them,"  thought 
Frank.  "No  fancy  playing  in  this.  The  fellow  might 
run  forty  or  fifty  any  minute,  and  that  would  be  my 
Waterloo." 

However,  his  effort  to  bring  the  balls  together 
caused  him  to  miss  the  very  first  attempt,  and  left  the 
ivories  for  Starbright,  everything  being  favorable. 

Thinking  of  the  prize  for  which  they  were  contend- 
ing had  made  Dick  nervous,  despite  the  fact  that  he 
had  always  fancied  his  nerves  were  like  iron.  The 
glances  he  had  received  from  Inza  had  added  to  his 
nervousness,  so  that  he  discovered  his  hand  was  sha- 
king a  trifle. 

Immediately  he  braced  up,  not  wishing  any  one  to 
discover  that  he  was  in  that  condition.  He  was  de- 
liberate in  his  movements,  though  inwardly  eager  and 
in  haste. 

The  first  shot  attempted  was  made  by  a  rank 
scratch,  although  he  made  no  sign  that  he  had  not 
tried  for  it  in  that  manner.  Instead  of  rattling  him 
more,  the  shock  of  getting  the  point  after  he  thought 


290  A  Billiard-match. 

he  had  missed  it  served  to  steady  his  nerves.  He 
looked  toward  Inza  as  he  came  round  the  table.  Their 
eyes  met,  and  he  fancied  she  was  urging  him  to  do 
his  best. 

"I  will!"  he  resolved.  "I  am  going  to  win!  I'll 
beat  Frank  Merriwell  at  something!" 

Dick's  brother  was  looking  on  with  breathless  in- 
terest, being  more  excited  than  the  big  college  man, 
if  possible.  He  longed  for  Dick  to  come  off  victor, 
yet  fancied  such  a  thing  could  not  happen,  with  Frank 
Merriwell  for  an  opponent. 

That  look  from  Inza  aided  in  giving  Starbright 
courage.  He  swung  into  the  work  with  remarkable 
skill,  making  another  beautiful  run,  reeling  off  point 
after  point. 

Phil  Starbright  could  scarcely  keep  still.  He  wanted 
to  dance  and  shout  when  Dick  passed  Frank  and  took 
the  lead.  Browning  looked  on  in  amazed  silence, 
while  Ready  gasped: 

"What's  this?  what's  this?  I  fear  me  much  the  re- 
sult is  to  be  a  surprise.  Be  still,  my  fluttering  heart, 
be  still!" 

"I  believe  Mr.  Starbright  is  going  to  beat  Frank!" 
whispered  Winnie  to  Buck. 

"None  whatever !"  returned  the  Westerner.  "Don't 
get  that  idea  into  your  head,  girl.  I've  seen  Frank 
Merriwell  before,  and  he's  never  beaten  till  the  game 
is  ended.  He  has  nerves,  while  the  big  fellow  is  un- 
steady and  liable  to  go  into  the  air  any  minute.  You 
hear  me !" 


A  Billiard-match.  291 

Starbright  ran  eighteen  points,  which  gave  him  a 
lead  of  twelve. 

"Now,  Merry,  old  man,"  urged  Buck,  "get  into 
gear  and  do  your  pretty  work.  We  know  you're  a  bit 
out  of  practise,  but  just  show  us  how  you  can  play 
at  any  old  game  when  you  have  to  play." 

Not  a  word  did  Frank  say,  though  he  smiled  faintly 
at  Badger.  He  began  by  making  three  difficult  shots, 
the  third  one  bunching  the  balls.  Then  he  played  in 
splended  form  till  he  had  added  nineteen  to  the  three, 
making  a  run  of  twenty-two,  which  turned  the  tables 
on  Starbright,  leaving  Merry  ten  in  the  lead. 

Dick  missed  his  first  effort,  and  Frank  was  given 
the  balls  again.  He  sought  to  get  them  together  for 
a  run,  and  the  attempt  caused  him  to  fail  to  count  with 
his  second  shot. 

"You  want  only  eleven  to  tie,  Dick!"  palpitated 
Phil.  "You  can  get  'em.  I've  known  you  to  run 
thirty." 

Once  more  Starbright  tried  to  steady  his  nerves  and 
play  with  the  coolness  that  was  a  feature  of  Merri- 
well's  work.  Somehow  that  coolness  made  the  big 
fellow  feel  sure  that  under  ordinary  circumstances 
Frank  would  completely  outrank  him  at  billiards.  But 
the  prize  lured  Starbright  to  do  his  best.  That  Christ- 
mas sleigh-ride  with  Inza  was  something  worth  work- 
ing for. 

Click,  click,  click — the  big  freshman  tapped  off  the 
points,  Dashleigh  counting  the  buttons  as  he  slid  them 
along  the  wire.  One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven 


292  A  Billiard-match. 

— ha !  at  last  the  ivories  rolled  hard  and  lay  in  an  ex- 
tremely difficult  position.  \ 

Pausing  to  study  the  shot,  Dick  heard  Badger 
whisper  to  Winnie  that  he  must  surely  miss. 

"I  won't  miss!"  he  mentally  cried. 

Then,  with  his  utmost  skill  and  nerve,  he  played  a 
cushion-carom  shot  and  counted. 

"Good!"  exclaimed  Frank,  promptly  leading  the 
applause. 

Dick  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  face.  Not 
even  the  strain  and  thrill  and  excitement  of  a  football- 
game  could  set  his  nerves  on  edge  like  this. 

Inza's  laugh  caused  him  to  thrill  with  pleasure. 

"She's  glad  I  made  it!"  he  told  himself.  "Now  I 
know  I'm  going  to  win!" 

Having  succeeded  at  that  critical  point,  Dick  soon 
brought  the  balls  together,  astonishing  himself  by  his 
skill  in  this  respect.  Never  before  had  he  made  so 
many  hard  shots  with  absolute  confidence,  and  the 
witnesses  of  his  work  were  breathless  with  suspense. 

"He  is  going  to  win!"  breathed  Winnie,  clutching 
Buck's  arm. 

"Don't  you  believe  it!"  returned  the  Westerner 
stiffly.  "Frank  won't  let  him  win." 

Ten  points,  fifteen,  twenty,  twenty-five — no,  he 
failed  on  the  twenty-fifth. 

"Eighty-eight  points  to  Merry's  seventy-five,"  an- 
nounced Dashleigh.  "You're  just  thirteen  ahead, 
Dick." 


A  Billiard-match.  293 

"Thirteen?"  exclaimed  the  freshman,  with  a  start 
of  annoyance. 

'The  fatal  number  again!"  exclaimed  Inza,  but  she 
laughed. 

"Here's  where  you  have  to  do  it,  if  you're  going  to 
do  it  at  all,  Merry,"  said  Browning.  "Twelve  more 
points  lets  Starbright  out,  and  you'll  ride  with  me  to- 
morrow, instead  of  with  Inza." 

Frank  needed  twenty-five,  and  he  started  in  to 
make  them,  but  the  balls  persisted  in  running  hard, 
despite  his  greatest  care.  Time  after  time  he  came 
near  missing,  but  not  till  he  had  scored  ninety-four 
buttons  in  all  did  he  fail  to  count. 

"Hard  luck!"  growled  Browning. 

"Now,  Dick!"  cried  Phil;  "this  is  your  chance,  and 
you  must  do  the  trick." 

Starbright  did  not  dare  to  glance  toward  Inza  again ; 
but,  fancying  she  was  watching  him  and  wishing  for 
his  success,  he  began  the  task  of  trying  to  run  out. 

The  first  shot  was  a  close  shave,  the  cue-ball  barely 
brushing  one  of  the  object  balls.  Indeed,  Browning 
fancied  Dick  had  missed,  but  Frank  promptly  declared 
he  had  plainly  seen  the  shot,  and  it  was  a  fair  count. 
Dick  thanked  him  and  proceeded  with  the  play.  How- 
ever, he  was  extremely  anxious  and  excited,  and  his 
anxiety  increased  as  he  passed  ninety,  crept  up  to 
ninety-five  and  then  found  himself  drawing  close  onto 
the  end  of  the  string. 

The  silence  was  intense.     Indeed,  it  was  so  great 


294  A  Billiard-match. 

that  it  began  to  oppress  Dick,  and  he  longed  for  the 
spectators  to  talk,  laugh,  or  do  something.  He  was 
tingling  from  his  head  to  his  heels. 

Ninety-six,  ninety-seven,  ninety-eight — only  two 
points  to  make. 

"I  told  you!"  whispered  Winnie  to  Buck,  in  disap- 
pointment. "He  has  beaten  Frank!" 

"Not  yet!"  returned  the  unshaken  Kansan.  "If  he 
beats  Merry,  he'll  be  the  first  galoot  to  do  the  trick  in 
a  long  time.  He  won't!" 

Ninety-nine ! 

One  point  more  to  be  made ! 

"Nobody  can  beat  Frank  Merriwell !"  huskily  whis- 
pered Buck  to  his  wife.  "He'll  miss  this  shot,  and 
Merry  will  win." 

The  silence  was  so  great  that  Starbright  heard 
Badger's  words  just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  trying 
to  score  the  final  button.  He  was  struck  with  the  con- 
viction that  he  must  miss — that  it  would  be  a  marvel 
for  him  to  defeat  Frank  Merriwell. 

He  missed ! 

"Well,"  said  Merriwell  quietly,  as  deep  breaths  were 
heard  on  every  side,  "you  made  a  handsome  try  for 
it,  and  that  was  a  case  of  hard  luck.  I've  got  to  make 
six,  and  I  may  slip  up  on  doing  that." 

Starbright's  failure  at  the  critical  point  left  him 
shaking  all  over.  His  last  faint  hope  was  that  Merry 
might  fail,  but  Frank  played  with  care,  precision,  and 
coolness,  and  slowly  but  surely  scored  the  six  points 
he  needed,  winning  the  match. 


A  Billiard-match.  295 

"Miss  Burrage,"  cried  Frank,  "remember  your 
promise." 

Her  merry  laugh  rang  out. 

"I'll  not  forget  it,"  she  said ;  "but  there  was  a  time 
when  I  thought  I'd  surely  ride  with  Dick." 

That  laugh  cut  Starbright,  for  it  seemed  full  of  sat- 
isfaction and  relief. 

"I  guess  it's  all  right!"  he  thought  "She  wanted 
to  ride  with  him  all  the  time,  and  she  thought  he'd 
beat  me  more  than  he  did.  She  is  glad  I  lost !" 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

BOWLING. 

A  merry  Christmas  it  was  there  at  Starbright's. 
The  sleighing-party  was  enjoyed  by  all  who  took  part, 
and  never  had  Inza  seemed  merrier  and  brighter  than 
on  that  occasion.  She  laughed,  and  sang,  and  joked ; 
but  Frank  observed  that  she  was  not  in  the  least  senti- 
mental, and  she  took  pains  to  turn  the  conversation 
into  another  channel  when  it  approached  a  dangerous 
point.  She  seemed  to  enjoy  talking  of  Dick,  his  home, 
and  his  beautiful  mother.  Somehow  these  thoughts 
did  not  please  Merry,  but  he  betrayed  nothing  of  the 
sort,  and  he  spoke  words  of  highest  enthusiasm  about 
Starbright. 

The  dinner-party  that  night  was  one  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. The  table  was  decorated  with  flowers  and 
evergreens,  the  lights  were  softened  and  shaded,  and 
Jack  Ready  declared  the  turkey  was  a  "feast  for  the 
woozy  old  gods." 

Ready  came  out  with  a  new  batch  of  jokes,  some  of 
them  fresh  and  some  "wearing  whiskers."  Merriwell 
made  a  happy  speech,  and  Browning  ate  till  his  raven- 
ous hunger  was  completely  satisfied. 

Then  there  was  singing  and  music  and  a  good  time 
generally.  There  was  no  Christmas  tree,  but  the  sur- 
prise came  in  the  form  of  a  table-load  of  presents 


Bowling.  297 

found  in  a  room  to  which  all  were  finally  invited  by 
Mrs.  Starbright.  Everybody  had  been  remembered, 
and  all  declared  they  received  just  what  they  wanted 
more  than  anything  else  in  the  world,  which  probably 
was  an  exaggeration  in  many  instances. 

On  entering  the  room,  Frank  had  observed  a  bit 
of  mistletoe  suspended  from  the  chandelier.  At  last, 
Inza  innocently  paused  directly  beneath  it,  and,  in  a 
moment,  Merry  had  her  in  his  arms,  claiming  the 
privilege  of  a  kiss. 

But  Dick  had  been  equally  observant,  and  he  was 
on  hand  at  the  same  instant.  Quick  as  a  flash,  she 
held  them  both  off,  laughing  merrily. 

The  others  shouted  and  told  her  she  could  not  es- 
cape paying  the  forfeit. 

"But  what  am  I  to  do?"  she  asked,  blushing  crim- 
son. "Both  these  rude  chaps  seized  me  at  the  same 
moment,  and  both  claim  they  were  first." 

"Oh,  but  I'm  slow !"  exclaimed  Ready.  "Why  didn't 
I  have  my  eyes  open  and  get  into  that?  It  was  ever 
thus!  I'm  getting  to  be  a  retired  number." 

"I  don't  see  but  you'll  have  to  surrender  to  both, 
Inza,"  laughed  Winnie. 

"Oh,  I  can't  do  that,"  she  protested.  "They  must 
settle  it  between  them  somehow.  Till  they  do,  let  both 
keep  their  distance." 

Then  she  skipped  away  from  them,  leaving  them 
standing  there,  face  to  face.  Dick  looked  straight  into 
Frank's  eyes,  smiling  a  bit,  but  there  was  a  challenge 


298  Bowling. 

in  his  aspect  and  look.  More  than  ever  Merry  realized 
that  this  big,  fair-haired  youth  was  a  rival  at  whom 
it  were  folly  to  scoff. 

"How  shall  we  settle  it?"  asked  Merriwell  pleas- 
antly. "I'll  let  you  name  the  manner,  Dick." 

"Another  game  of  billiards,"  suggested  Ready. 
"That's  the  trick !  Ah !  it  takes  me  to  solve  these  little 
difficulties.  I'm  a  handy  chap  to  have  round." 

"No,"  said  Starbright.     "I  have  another  way." 

"Name  it,"  urged  Merry. 

"We'll  bowl  a  string  of  candlepins.  The  one  who 
makes  the  highest  score  wins  the  privilege  given  by  the 
mistletoe." 

"Done!" 

Winnie  clapped  her  hands  and  Inza  laughed. 

"To  the  bowling-alley!"  cried  Ready,  with  a  flour- 
ish. "I'll  be  pin-boy,  and  every  little  candle  shall  be 
on  its  post  to  a  fraction  of  an  inch.  Forward  the 
Light  Brigade!  Charge  for  the  pins!" 

So  down  to  the  alley  in  the  basement  of  the  house 
they  went.  The  lights  were  turned  on  by  Phil,  and 
soon  everything  was  ready  for  this  second  match  be- 
tween Frank  and  Dick. 

The  entire  house  was  heated  by  steam,  and  the  spec- 
tators could  look  on  in  comfort.  The  alley  was  regu- 
lation length,  well  built,  well  kept,  and  handsomely 
polished. 

It  fell  to  Frank  to  lead  off.  He  examined  the  balls, 
finding  them  all  of  a  size  and  in  fine  condition. 

"I  am  going  to  beat  you  at  this,  Merry,"  asserted 


Bowling,  299 

Dick.  "I  know  you  are  too  much  for  me  at  billiards, 
but  I'm  better  at  this  business." 

"That  being  the  case,"  smiled  Merry,  "I  must  take 
care  to  begin  strong  and  hold  out.  Here  goes." 

He  sent  the  first  ball  skimming  down  the  alley,  and 
it  cracked  into  the  pins,  striking  them  fairly  in  the 
center  and  splitting  them,  taking  out  three,  which  left 
four  standing  on  one  side  and  three  on  the  other. 

"Oh,  Laura!"  exclaimed  Ready,  from  his  position 
beside  the  pins.  "This  doesn't  look  much  like  a  strong 
start.  Seven  soldiers  will  be  good  work  for  that 
break." 

"Look  out  for  that  hole,  Frank,"  warned  Browning. 
"Keep  away  from  it" 

Merry  obeyed  the  injunction  to  the  letter,  and  he 
swept  off  the  group  of  four  pins  with  his  second 
ball,  leaving  three  standing. 

"That's  clever,"  nodded  Dick.  "Let's  see  if  you  can 
clean  them  up." 

With  moderate  speed,  Frank  sent  down  a  curve 
for  the  little  line  of  pins,  but  he  barely  missed  the  head 
one,  clipping  off  the  last  two. 

"Nine  for  Merriwell  in  his  first  box,"  announced 
Dashleigh,  who  had  been  selected  to  keep  the  score. 

Ready  set  the  pins  up  with  care,  while  Starbright 
prepared  for  his  first  effort.  He  stood  on  .the  left  side 
of  the  runway,  took  a  slow  start,  and  sent  a  swift  ball 
into  the  bunch  of  pins,  striking  them  on  the  quarter 
and  tearing  them  up  as  if  they  had  been  hit  by  a  cy- 
clone. Only  the  head  pin  was  left  standing. 


300  Bowling. 

"Refuse  me!"  gasped  Ready.  "It's  dangerous 
down  here.  Oh,  but  that  was  a  soaker!  Methinks  I 
smell  a  spare." 

He  was  right,  for  Dick  drove  the  second  ball 
straight  and  true  at  the  single  pin,  which  went  flying 
against  the  padded  end  of  the  alley  with  a  sodden 
thump. 

"Spare  in  the  first  box  for  Starbright !"  cried  Dash- 
leigh,  in  great  delight.  "It's  your  turn  now,  Dick! 
He  did  you  at  billiards,  but  this  is  different." 

"This  is  only  the  beginning,"  smiled  Dick.  "I'm 
not  liable  to  keep  that  work  up  right  along." 

"I  should  hope  not!"  exclaimed  Frank. 

Frank  came  up  for  the  second  box,  trying  a  wide 
curve,  which  missed  the  head  pin  and  swept  down  one 
side  of  the  bunch.  His  second  ball  was  sent  straight 
down  the  middle  of  the  alley,  but  it  took  a  slight  shoot 
just  before  hitting  the  pins  and  left  two  standing, 
one  on  the  center  ana  one  on  the  corner. 

"Spares  are  scarce  on  this  side,"  he  smiled,  appar- 
ently not  a  bit  disturbed 

"Hard  luck!"  growled  Browning. 

"No,"  said  Merry,  "poor  bowling." 

Instead  of  trying  to  get  just  one  of  the  two  pins 
left,  he  used  a  curve  to  the  right  for  a  billiard-shot, 
hoping  to  make  them  both,  but  the  head  pin  was 
missed  by  a  fraction  of  an  inch,  and  neither  fell. 

"Eight  pins,"  cried  Dashleigh.     "Seventeen  in  all." 

"Starbright  is  bound  to  have  a  big  start,"  said  Bad- 
ger. "In  this  kind  of  a  game,  every  pin  counts." 


Bowling.  301 

"Don't  forget  this  first  ball  counts  on  your  spare, 
Dick,"  warned  Dashleigh. 

Dick  did  not  forget.  He  whistled  the  ball  down 
the  alley,  struck  the  pins  prettily,  and  tore  down  six 
of  them. 

"That  gives  him  sixteen  in  his  first  box,"  said  Bert. 
"And  he  has  a  splendid  chance  for  another  spare." 

Dick  took  the  chance,  too,  for  he  got  into  the  pins 
finely,  cleaning  the  alley,  which  caused  the  spectators 
to  utter  cries  of  applause. 

"This  is  hot!"  muttered  Frank.  "You  seem  to  be 
keeping  it  up,  old  man." 

"He's  making  me  lots  of  work,"  observed  Ready, 
as  he  deftly  stood  the  fallen  pins  on  the  spot. 

Frank  changed  his  position  on  the  alley,  but  again 
he  split  the  pins,  leaving  two  standing,  one  on  each 
corner. 

"No  spare  there!"  cried  Dashleigh. 

"No  poor  bowling  in  that,"  growled  Bruce.  "It 
should  have  been  a  strike." 

Frank  clipped  off  the  two  remaining  pins  with  two 
straight  balls,  which  gave  him  ten  in  his  third  box, 
making  twenty-seven  in  all. 

Starbright  got  into  the  bunch  again,  but  secured 
only  five  on  his  spare,  which  left  the  pins  in  a  diffi- 
cult position.  He  did  well  in  raking  down  nine  with 
three  balls;  but  his  lead  on  Frank  was  great,  the  sec- 
ond spare  having  given  him  thirty-one  in  the  second 
box,  and  on  even  rolls  with  Merry  he  had  forty. 

"Up  against  the  real  thing  now,"  chirped  Ready. 


302  Bowling. 

"This  Starbright  has  played  the  game  before,  my 
friends.  You're  buncoed,  Merriwell." 

On  his  next  roll  Frank  was  able  to  make  but  nine 
pins,  obtaining  a  total  of  thirty-six,  while  Starbright 
cleaned  the  alley,  which  gave  him  a  lead  of  fourteen 
pins. 

Merry  had  been  trying  different  kinds  of  balls  and 
different  positions  on  the  alley,  seeking  to  discover 
just  where  he  could  do  his  best  work.  Now  he  opened 
with  a  cross-ball,  which  struck  the  bunch  on  the  quar- 
ter and  swept  them  down  clatteringly.  A  shout  went 
up,  for  it  was  seen  that  but  one  pin  remained  standing, 
and  that  one  was  tottering  and  swaying. 

"Go  down,  you  scoundrel!"  roared  Browning. 

But  it  refused  to  obey  the  command,  settling  into 
position. 

"Robbery !"  declared  Starbright.  "You  should  have 
had  it,  Frank.  All  the  same" — with  a  quick  glance 
at  Inza — "I'm  very  glad  you  didn't  get  it." 

Merry  made  no  complaint,  but  sent  the  next  ball  true 
as  a  bullet  from  a  gun,  clipping  down  the  pin  and 
making  a  spare. 

"Here's  where  you  gain,"  said  Browning. 

But  Starbright  seemed  on  his  mettle,  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  duplicate  Merry's  performance,  making  a 
particularly  difficult  spare. 

"He  refuses  to  let  me  overtake  him!"  exclaimed 
Frank. 

"Gentlemen,"  cried  Ready,  "have  you  no  pity  for 


Bowling.  303 

a  poor  working  boy?  Please  leave  a  few  standing 
once  in  a  while!" 

Frank  had  decided  that  the  cross-ball  was  the  one 
to  use,  and  now  he  made  ready  to  get  all  he  could 
on  his  spare.  There  was  a  hush  as  he  picked  up  the 
first  ball  and  sent  it  spinning  anglewise  down  the 
alley. 

Crash — clatter ! 

"Seven  pins!"  shouted  Ready. 

"Good  work!"  muttered  Browning. 

But  the  remaining  pins  were  left  in  such  a  way  that 
it  seemed  impossible  to  get  them  all  with  a  single  ball. 
Frank  studied  them  a  moment  and  did  his  best,  but  his 
best  left  one  standing.  This  one  he  removed  with 
the  third  ball. 

"Fifty-three  on  your  half,"  said  Dashleigh.  "Sixty- 
three  in  your  sixth  box." 

Starbright  struck  the  head  pin  too  full,  which  cut 
out  four,  leaving  standing  two  wings  of  three  pins 
each. 

"Four  pins  with  his  spare  ball,"  said  Bert.  "Sixty- 
four  on  his  half.  That's  all  right." 

"But  Frank  gained  three  pins  there,"  murmured 
Inza. 

"Frank  will  win,"  asserted  Badger,  speaking  so  low 
that  Dick  could  not  hear.  "I  tell  you  he  can't  be 
beaten !  That's  whatever !" 

"But  he  has  a  hard  task  before  him,"  whispered 
Winnie.  "Mr.  Starbright  is  a  wonderful  bowler." 


304  Bowling. 

Dick  took  pains  and  smashed  down  one  of  the 
standing  wings  with  his  second  ball.  His  third,  how- 
ever, left  a  pin  standing,  and  Frank  had  gained  an- 
other. 

In  the  sixth  box  Starbright  had  seventy-three,  with 
Merriwell  just  ten  pins  behind  him. 

By  this  time  Frank  had  the  range  of  the  alley,  and 
now  he  sent  a  strike-ball  tearing  into  the  pins,  mowing 
them  all  down  in  a  twinkling. 

"I  knew  it!"  said  Browning,  with  intense  satisfac- 
tion. 

"Oh,  mercy!"  whooped  Ready.  "Did  you  ever  in 
your  life!  Wasn't  that  a  bird!" 

"Here  is  where  he  gets  right  into  it,"  said  Buck 
to  Winnie.  "I  knew  he  would." 

But  Starbright  was  not  shaken  in  the  least,  and  he 
came  near  duplicating  Merry's  feat,  for,  with  his 
first  ball,  he  smashed  down  every  pin  but  one. 

"Now,  that  was  genuine  hard  luck!"  exclaimed 
Frank  sincerely.  "That  ball  was  just  as  good  as 
mine,  but  the  pins  did  not  happen  to  fall  just  right." 

Dick  looked  grim  and  determined,  and  he  went  for 
the  single  pin,  getting  it  easily,  which  gave  him  a 
spare. 

"You  may  get  as  many  with  your  spare  as  he  does 
with  his  strike,"  said  Dashleigh,  encouragingly. 

"But  I'd  rather  have  the  strike,"  confessed  Dick. 

Frank  cut  only  two  pins  out  of  the  bunch  with  his 
first  ball,  and  it  began  to  look  bad  for  him;  but  he 
placed  the  second  ball  perfectly,  sweeping  off  all  the 


Bowling.  305 

remaining  pins  but  one,  which  gave  him  a  score  of 
nineteen  in  his  seventh  box,  the  total  being  eighty-two. 
He  knocked  down  the  last  pin  with  his  third  ball, 
which  added  ten  more  for  his  eighth  box. 

Strangely  enough,  Starbright  did  precisely  the  same 
thing  with  all  three  balls,  getting  only  two  on  his 
spare,  which  left  Merriwell  but  three  points  behind 
in  the  seventh  and  eighth  boxes. 

"This  is  too  close  for  comfort,  Dick,"  palpitated 
Dashleigh.  "You  have  let  him  come  right  up  on  you. 
You  must  hold  your  lead  in  the  last  two  boxes." 

Frank  was  in  fine  fettle.  He  had  a  "good  eye,"  and 
his  hand  was  steady,  while  his  aim  was  perfect.  Again 
he  put  a  ball  into  the  heart  of  the  bunch,  striking  the 
head  pin  on  the  quarter,  and  again  he  cleaned  the  alley. 

"Wow!"  whooped  Ready,  dancing  about. 
"Wouldn't  I  cut  a  cake  of  ice  in  this  game!  My! 
My!  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  bowling!" 

"It's  the  first  time  in  all  your  life  that  you  ever 
told  the  truth,"  flung  back  Browning. 

"Frank  will  win!"  murmured  Inza,  and  somehow 
Winnie  fancied  that  she  seemed  disappointed. 

Starbright  did  not  smile  now.  His  strong,  hand- 
some face  looked  grim  and  resolute.  He  sent  a 
straight,  true  ball  shooting  down  the  alley,  and,  like 
a  flash,  every  pin  was  swept  off  clean.  Then  what 
a  shout  went  up !  Both  had  made  a  strike  in  the  ninth ! 

Dashleigh  leaped  to  his  feet  and  danced  with  joy, 
while  Phil  wished  to  hug  his  big  brother. 


306  Bowling. 

"He'll  keep  his  lead  now!"  declared  Bert  to  Phil. 
"Don't  you  fear  about  that!" 

Merry  was  not  smiling.  He  knew  that  overconfi- 
dence  might  prove  a  great  mistake,  and  yet  he  was  de- 
termined to  win  if  possible.  However,  his  first  ball 
slipped  from  his  fingers  and  barely  knocked  down  a 
single  pin  on  the  corner. 

Dashleigh  wanted  to  whoop  again,  while  Browning 
felt  like  thumping  somebody.  Only  Buck  Badger  re- 
mained perfectly  unshaken  in  his  belief  that  Merriwell 
could  not  fail  to  win. 

Frank  was  deliberate  in  his  movements,  and  he 
placed  the  next  ball  to  a  fraction  of  an  inch.  The 
result  was  the  complete  collapse  of  the  pins  and  a 
spare  for  him  in  his  last  box ! 

Dashleigh's  heart  went  into  his  boots,  while  Phil 
Starbright  simply  sat  down  on  a  bench,  gasping. 

"Twenty  in  the  ninth;  one  hundred  and  twelve 
total,"  said  Bert  huskily.  "I'm  afraid  that  does  the 
trick!" 

The  pins  were  up,  and  Starbright  prepared  for  the 
last  effort.  His  first  ball  brought  everybody  to  his  or 
her  toes,  for  it  went  straight  and  true  into  the  proper 
place,  and  down  crashed  nine  pins. 

"Hooray !"  yelled  Phil,  leaping  up.  "He's  going  to 
do  the  same  thing!  He'll  get  a  spare,  too!" 

But  now  Starbright  found  himself  shaking  a  bit. 
In  this  respect  he  lacked  Merriwell's  nerve,  for  Frank 
was  always  the  coolest  and  steadiest  when  the  critical 
moment  came. 


Bowling.  307 

"I  must  do  it !"  thought  Dick,  but  in  his  heart  there 
was  a  faint  fear  that  he  might  fail.  He  sent  the  ball 
straight  toward  the  pin,  and  several  cried : 

"He's  got  it!" 

But  the  ball  curved  the  least  bit,  brushed  the  pin, 
caused  it  to  move  off  the  spot  at  least  half  an  inch, 
but  left  it  standing. 

Dashleigh  collapsed  and  seemed  disheartened  until 
he  made  a  sudden  discovery. 

"Hold  on!"  he  shouted.  "Merriwell  has  but  one 
ball  left!  He  should  have  rolled  that  one  off  before 
Dick.  There  is  a  bare  chance  left  if  Dick  gets  that 
last  pin." 

"I  fail  to  see  it,"  grunted  Browning. 

"Why,  it's  plain  enough,"  declared  Bert.  "Frank 
has  one  hundred  and  twelve  in  his  ninth  box,  hasn't 
he?" 

"Sure." 

"And  he  s  made  ten  with  two  balls." 

"Right." 

"That  ten  goes  into  the  last  box,  together  with  what 
he  gets  on  the  next  ball." 

"Correct." 

"What  if  he  gets  only  one?    He'll  have  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-three.     Dick  has  that  already.     If'' 
Dick  gets  that  pin,  Merriwell  must  have  two  to  tie  I 
and  three  to  win.    It  often  happens  that  a  man  doesn't 
get  but  one  or  two  on  one  ball.    Get  that  pin,  Dick !" 

Dick  got  it,  making  his  total  score  one  hundred 
and  twenty-four. 


308  Bowling. 

"That's  enough  to  win  any  bowling-match,"  mut- 
tered Phil. 

"Any  but  this  one,"  said  Badger.  "You'll  see  that 
Merriwell  is  a  hard  man  to  beat.  I  found  it  out  some 
months  ago." 

Frank  now  took  up  his  last  ball  and  sent  it  at  the 
pins  which  Ready  had  placed  on  the  spots.  It  struck 
them,  sent  them  whirling  and  crashing,  and  left  but 
a  single  pin  standing. 

"That  does  it,"  admitted  Dashleigh,  at  last.  "He 
makes  one  hundred  and  thirty-one." 

This  is  the  score  kept  by  Bert : 


MERR 

9 
8 
10 
9 
17 

IO 

19 

IO 
20 
19 

IWKI,!,. 

I  

STARS 
16 

RIGHT. 

16 

31 

40 
50 
64 

73 

85 
95 
114 

124 

17  

2  

..!"> 

27.  . 

.    "?.  . 

,.  o 

36  

4.  . 

10 

S3-  • 

5.  . 

63  

6  

.   0 

82  

.   7.  . 

Q2.  ., 

8  

IO 

112  

.  o.  .. 

131.. 

..10... 

..IO 

Total  131  Total  124 

Frank  had  won  the  privilege  he  sought  to  claim  be- 
neath the  mistletoe. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

DEFEAT     AND     SUCCESS. 

Indoor  sports  were  not  the  only  kind  enjoyed  at 
Starbright's.  There  was  skating  on  the  lake,  and  Phil 
took  them  out  for  a  spin  over  the  ice  on  his  ice-boat. 
The  day  after  Christmas,  however,  an  accident  hap- 
pened that  made  the  girls  afraid  of  the  ice. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that,  even  in  the  coldest 
weather,  any  large  body  of  water  that  is  frozen  over 
has  weak  or  open  spots  in  the  ice;  "breathing-holes" 
they  are  sometimes  called. 

In  this  respect  Seneca  Lake  was  like  other  lakes, 
and  so  it  chanced  that,  skating  together,  with  hands 
clasped,  Inza  and  Winnie  struck  one  of  those  places. 
Before  they  could  turn  about,  the  ice  broke  beneath 
their  feet  and  they  found  themselves  struggling  in  the 
chilling  water. 

Several  of  the  fellows  were  skating  near-by,  and 
they  were  startled  and  horrified  by  the  shriek  that 
came  from  the  girls  as  they  broke  through.  In  a  mo- 
ment, every  youth  was  dashing  toward  the  spot. 

Starbright  was  nearest.  His  heart  sprang  into  his 
throat,  for  he  realized  the  terrible  peril  of  the  girls, 
knowing  they  were  liable  to  clasp  each  other  about 
their  necks  and  go  down  immediately. 

Frank  was  only  a  short  distance  behind  Dick,  but 


Defeat  and  Success. 

Starbright  reached  the  spot  first.  As  he  came  up, 
he  saw  Inza's  head  disappear  beneath  the  surface,  and 
straight  into  the  water  he  plunged,  clutching  at  her 
in  the  wild  hope  that  he  might  be  successful. 

Fortunately,  Dick  was  able  to  grasp  Inza  before 
she  sank  beyond  his  reach,  and  he  dragged  her  back 
to  the  surface.  Then  the  others  came  up. 

Badger  was  there  almost  as  soon  as  Frank,  and  they 
pulled  Winnie  out  on  to  the  solid  ice.  Immediately 
Merry  turned  his  attention  to  Inza. 

"Take  her!"  Starbright  chattered.  "Get  her  out 
quick,  Merriwell!  I  thought  she  was  gone!" 

"Guess  she  would  have  been  if  you  hadn't  plunged 
in  after  her  as  you  did,"  said  Frank. 

The  ice  was  solid  close  to  the  dangerous  spot,  so 
there  was  little  trouble  in  drawing  Inza  out,  after 
which  Starbright  was  helped  from  the  water. 

Then  the  girls,  wrapped  in  the  coats  which  the  boys 
stripped  off  and  threw  about  them,  were  hurried  away 
to  the  house,  where  they  were  doctored  and  given 
warm  drinks  and  placed  in  bed. 

Some  hours  later,  when  the  boys  were  all  together 
again,  Winnie  and  Inza  appeared  and  thanked  their 
rescuers.  Frank  observed  that  Inza  first  went  straight 
to  Dick,  giving  him  her  hand. 

"I  thought  I  was  gone,"  she  said.  "I  was  stunned 
when  I  went  into  the  water,  and  I  couldn't  seem  to  do 
a  thing  to  help  myself,  though  I  knew  I  was  sinking. 
Then  I  felt  a  strong  hand  grasp  me,  and  you  pulled 
me  back  to  the  surface.  I  know  I  owe  my  life  to  you !" 


Defeat  and  Success.  311 

Dick's  face  was  crimson,  and  his  heart  thrilled  as 
she  gave  his  ringers  a  warm  pressure,  looking  straight 
into  his  blue  eyes. 

"We  all  did  what  we  could,"  he  stammered.  "Frank 
was  on  hand  to  pull  you  out." 

"But  Starbright  was  the  only  one  who  really  saved 
you,"  said  Merry,  with  perfect  generosity.  "There 
can  be  no  doubt  of  that." 

After  a  little  time,  he  slipped  away  unobserved  and 
retired  to  his  room,  in  the  solitude  of  which  he  sat  a 
long  time,  pondering  over  the  things  that  had  hap- 
pened since  his  arrival  at  the  home  of  the  Starbrights. 
Once  more  in  his  heart  throbbed  the  pain  of  loneliness 
that  had  seized  him  in  his  room  the  night  he  received 
the  brief  message  from  Elsie. 

"I  will  delay  no  longer,"  he  finally  murmured.  "I'll 
seek  Inza,  and  come  to  an  understanding  with  her." 

Then  he  went  down-stairs,  having  first  looked  into 
the  billiard-room,  where  Ready  and  Dashleigh  were 
indulging  in  a  game.  In  the  library  Browning  was 
stretched  on  a  Morris  chair,  reading  a  book.  Through 
the  house  Frank  searched,  but  he  found  nothing  of 
Inza  till,  at  last,  he  heard  the  crash  of  falling  pins  in 
the  basement. 

"They  are  bowling,"  he  said,  and  descended  the 
stairs. 

Dick  and  Inza  were  there.  He  had  been  instruct- 
ing her  in  bowling,  and  neither  of  them  heard  Frank, 
who  paused  on  the  stairs. 


312  Defeat  and  Success. 

"It  was  just  too  bad  he  beat  you!"  Inza  was  say- 
ing. "I  don't  believe  he  could  do  it  again." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  laughed  the  big  fellow. 
"But  I  don't  think  I  ever  wanted  to  win  anything  more 
in  all  my  life  than  I  did  that  string  of  candlepms." 

"Did  you?"  she  murmured,  idly  marking  on  the 
score-board. 

"I  did !"  he  declared,  getting  close  to  her  and  watch- 
ing her  write.  "And  I've  felt  ever  since  that  I  was 
robbed  of  something." 

"Perhaps,"  she  murmured — "perhaps  somebody  else 
wished  you  to  win." 

"You?"  he  breathed,  all  atremble — "did  you  wish 
that — Inza?" 

"Perhaps  so." 

"I  didn't  know — I  thought  you  might  want  Frank 
to  beat  me.  What  are  you  writing — my  name?" 

"Yes— and  mine." 

Having  written  her  own  name  beneath  Dick's,  she 
began  to  strike  out  such  letters  as  she  could  find  in 
both  names.  He  watched  her  with  interest. 

"Let's  see,"  he  said,  "how  it  is  done?  You  take  the 
letters  that  are  left,  and  how  do  you  say  it?" 

"Love,  hate,  marriage;  love,  hate,  marriage,"  she 
explained. 

"There  are  seven  letters  left  in  my  name,"  he  de- 
clared. "It's  love  for  me,  and  never  anything  in  this 
world  came  truer!" 

His  voice  betrayed  his  emotion. 


Defeat  and  Success.  313 

"There  are  four  letters  left  in  my  name,"  said  Inza, 
her  face  turned  from  him. 

"Love  again!"  exclaimed  Dick  softly.  "Love  for 
both  of  us!  Inza — is  it — can  it  be — true?" 

"Didn't  I  say  I  was  sorry  Frank  defeated  you  at 
candlepins?"  she  murmured. 

"By  Heaven!"  he  hoarsely  exclaimed;  "he  has  not 
defeated  me  after  all.  And  I'll  not  be  robbed  of  the 
privilege  the  mistletoe  gave  me!" 

Then  he  caught  her  in  his  strong  arms  and  kissed 
her. 

THE  END. 


"BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS " 
THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu- 
larity accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and. 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary- 
for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Churns  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Merriwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
Dy  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(i) 


THE  MOTOR  POWER  SERIES 

Donald  Grayson's  Famous 
Motor  Stories  for  Boys  %# 

Mr.  Grayson  is  an  accomplished  writer  of  up-to-the- 
minute  juvenile  stories  which  are  eagerly  read  by 
modern  American  lads. 

In  his  new  series,  his  characters  have  exciting  adven- 
tures with  every  kind  of  motor-driven  machines — motor 
cycles,  automobiles,  aeroplanes  and  submarines. 

You  may  readily  see  what  a  vast  field  for  adventures 
Mr.  Grayson  has  chosen. 

Now  Ready 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  CYCLE 

BOB  STEELE  ON  HIGH  GEAR 

BOB  STEELE  FROM  AUTO  TO  AIRSHIP 

BOB  STEELE  AFLOAT  IN  THE  CLOUDS 

BOB  STEELE'S  SUBMARINE  CRUISE 

BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  BOAT 

BOB  STEELE'S  WINNING  RACE 

BOB  STEELE'S  NEW  AEROPLANE 

BOB  STEELE'S  LAST  FLIGHT 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  PhUadelphia 

(2) 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY 

NEW  SERIES  of  splendid  tales  of  the  wonderful  and 
stirring  adventures  of  boys  who  fought  in  The  Revolu- 
tionary  War,  The  French  and  Indian  Wars,  and  Naval 
Battles  of  1812. 
The  stories  are  written  in  an  intensely  interesting  style,  and  no 

boy  can  read  them  without  being  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 

patriotic  enthusiasm. 

We  give  herewith  a  list  of  titles  now  ready.     Read  the  first  and 

you  will  want  to  read  all  the  others.     I2mo.     Cloth,  handsomely 

bound. 

PAUL  REVERE.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

ON  TO  QUEBEC.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FIGHTING  HAL.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

MARION  AND  HIS  MEN.     By  John  D«  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY  BEE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  TORY  PLOT.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE.     By  T.  C.  Harbaug h. 

WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE  MEN.    By  Harrie  Irving  Hancock. 

THE  QUAKER  SPY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE.    By  Lieut.  Loun«berry. 

THE  YOUNG  PATRIOT.    By  Lieut.  Lounsb«rry. 

"OLD  PUT"  THE  PATRIOT.    By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE.    By  Commander  Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER.     By  Capt.  Frank  Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES.     By  Frank  Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ESSEX.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

LAND  HERO  OF  i8u.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkis*. 

FOLLOWING  MAD  ANTHONY.    By  T.  C.  Harbamgh. 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAINS.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  BRADDOCK.    By  William  Murray  Graydon. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(3) 


THE  ROB  RANGER  SERIES 

87  LIEUT.  LIONEL  LOUNSBERRY 

A  capital  series  showing  what  can  be  accomplished  by  a  boy  of  ability  and  courage. 
Rob  ii  a  hero  whose  example  of  courage,  homesty  and  manliness  can  be  followed  with 
profit.  Rob's  horse,  Silent  Sam,  and  his  dog  Trumps,  play  an  important  part  in  the 
series,  and  camnot  fail  to  wim  admiration  and  affection.  No  better  stories  for  bright 
healthy  boys  could  well  be  imagined. 

ROB   RANGER'S   MINE,  or  THE   BOY  WHO   GOT  THERE.     By  Lieut. 

Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER   THE  YOUNG   RANCHMAN,  or  GOING   IT  ALONE   AT 

LOST  RIVER.    By  Lieut.  Lioael  LouDtberry. 
ROB  RANGER'S  COWBOY  DAYS,  or  THE  YOUNG  HUNTER  OF  THE 

BIG  HORN.     By  Lieut.  Lioael  Lounsberry. 

Price,  oO  cents  per  volume 

THE  CIRCUS  SERIES 

BY 

STANLEY  NORRIS  VICTOR  ST.  CLAIR 

Where  is  there  a  boy  who  does  not  love  a  circus  and  who  does  not  also  love  to  take 
a  peep  "behind  the  scenes"  of  the  great  white  canvas?  There  are  adventures  galore, 
enough  to  satisfy  any  healthy  youngster. 

PHIL    THE    SHOWMAN,    or    LIFE    IN    THE    SAWDUST     RING.      By 

Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  RIVALS,  »r  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG   SHOWMAN'3    PLUCK,   or   AN   UNKNOWN    RIDER    IN   THE 

RING.     By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  TRIUMPH,  or  A  GRAND  TOUR  ON  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
ZIG-ZAG,  THE   BOY  CONJURER,  or  LIFE  ON  AND  OFF  THE  STAGE. 

By  Victor  St.  Clair. 
ZIP,  THE  ACROBAT,  or  THE  OLD  SHOWMAN'S  SECRET.     By  Victor 

St.  Clair. 

Price,  5O  eents  per  volume 

THE  MATTHEW  WHITE  SERIES 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to  please  the  full- 
blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yel  containing  nothing  to  which  there  can  be  any  objection 
from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ATHLETE.— A  «»ory  of  how  a  boy  saved  his 

father's  »ame  amd  furtume. 

ERIC  DANE. — Imteresting  experiences  of  a-  boy  of  mea»s. 
GUY  HAMMERSLEY.— Hew  an  energetic  boy  cleared  bis  name. 
MY  MYSTERIOUS   FORTUNR.— An   extremely  interesting  story  of  a  $200,000 

check. 
THE  TOUR  OF  A  PRIVATE  CAR.— Interestiag  experiences  of  a  young  private 

secretary. 

THE  YOUNG  EDITOR.— Experiences  of  a  bright  boy  editing  a  weekly  paper. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  ail  booksellers,  or  lent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(4) 


The  Famous  Adventure  Series 

An  ideal  series  of  books  for  boys  of  all  ages.  The  stories 
are  of  the  bright  and  sparkling  kind,  full  of  adventures  on 
land  and  sea  and  not  over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions  ; 
in  fact,  just  the  sort  that  must  appeal  to  every  healthy  boy 
who  is  fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism. 

The  names  of  the  authors  give  sufficient  guarantee  to  their 
merits.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Henry  Harrison 
Lewis,  who  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
and  has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys. 

A  VOYAGE  TO  THE  GOLD  COAST.    By  Frank 
H.  Converse. 

An  adventurous  trip  of  New  England  boys  to  Africa. 

CAMP  IN  THE  SNOW.    By  Wm.  Murray  Graydon. 

Boys'  winter  camp  life  in  northern  New  England. 

CENTREBOARD  JIM.     By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

The  secret  of  Sargasso  Sea. 

FROM  LAKE  TO  WILDERNESS.    By  Wm.  Murray 
Graydon. 

Adventures  around  the  northern  lakes. 

HOW  HE  WON.    By  Brooks  McCormick. 

Triumphs  of  a  plucky  boy  afloat  and  ashore. 

IN    SEARCH    OF    AN    UNKNOWN    RACE.     By 
Frank  H.  Converse. 

A  thrilling  story  of  exploration  in  Brazil. 

KING  OF  THE  ISLAND.    By  Henry  Harmon  Lewis. 

Strange  adventures  on  a  South  Sea  Island. 

TOM  HAVEN  WITH  THE  WHITE  SQUADRON. 
By  Lieut.  James  K.  Orton. 

The  adventures  of  a  young  inventor  of     submarine  boat. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding*  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(5) 


THE  ANNAPOLIS  SERIES 

By  ENSIGN  CLARKE  FITCH,  U.  S.  N. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
thoroughly  familiar  with  all  naval  matters  Mr.  Fitch  has 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of 
books  for  boys  that  every  young  American  should  read.  His 
stories  are  full  of  interesting  information  about  the  navy, 
training  ships,  etc. 

BOUND  FOR  ANNAPOLIS,  or  The  Trials  of  a  Sailor  Boy. 
CLIP,  THE  NAVAL  CADET,  or  Exciting  Days  at  Annapolis. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TRAINING  SHIP,  or  Clif  Faraday's 
Pluck. 

FROM  PORT  TO  PORT,  or  Clif  Faraday  in  Many  Waters. 
A  STRANGE  CRUISE,  or  Clif  Faraday's  Yacht  Chase. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

THE  WEST  POINT  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  FREDERICK  GARRISON,  U.  S.  A. 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
West  Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject 
could  be  found  than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes 
the  life,  adventures  and  unique  incidents  that  have  occurred 
in  that  great  institution — in  these  famous  West  Point  stories. 

OFF  FOR  WEST  POINT,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Struggle. 
A  CADET'S  HONOR,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Heroism. 
ON  GUARD,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Celebration. 

THE  WEST  POINT  TREASURE,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strange 
Find. 

THE  WEST  POINT  RIVALS,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strategem. 
Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(6) 


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